THE ROMAN HISTORY, From the FOUNDATION of the CITY OF ROME, To the DESTRUCTION of the WESTERN EMPIRE. BY DR. GOLDSMITH. IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOLUME THE FIRST.
LONDON: Printed for S. BAKER and G. LEIGH, in YORK-STREET; T. DAVIES, in RUSSEL-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN; and L. DAVIS, in HOLBORN. M DCC LXIX.
PREFACE.
THERE are some subjects on which a writer must decline all attempts to acquire fame, satisfied with being obscurely useful. After such a number of Roman Histories, in all languages, ancient and modern, it would be but imposture to pretend new discoveries, or to expect to offer any thing in a work of this kind, which has not been often anticipated by others. The facts which it relates, have been an hundred times repeated, and every occurrence has been so variously considered, that learning can scarce find a new anecdote, or genius give novelty to the old.
I hope, therefore, for the readers indulgence, if in the following attempt it shall appear, that my only aim was to supply a concise, plain, and unaffected narrative of the rise and decline of a well known empire; I was contented to make such a book, as could not fail of being serviceable, though of all others, the most unlikely to promote the reputation of the writer. Instead therefore of pressing forward among the ambitious, I only claim the merit of knowing my own strength, and falling back among the hindmost ranks, with conscious inferiority.
I am not ignorant however, that it would be no such difficult task to pursue the same arts by which many dull men, every day, acquire a reputation in history; such might easily be attained, by fixing on some obscure period to write upon, where much seeming erudition might be displayed, almost unknown, because not worth remembering, and many maxims in politics might be advanced entirely new, because altogether false. But I have pursued a contrary method, chusing the most noted period in history, and offering no remarks but such as I thought strictly true.
The reasons of my choice were, that we had no history of this splendid period in our language, but was either too voluminous for common use, or too meanly written to please. Catrou and Rouille's history in six volumes, folio, translated into our language by Bundy, is entirely unsuited to the time and expence mankind usually chuse to bestow upon this subject: Ro
and his continuator, Crevier, making above thirty volumes octavo, seem to labour under the same imputation; as likewise Hooke, who has spent three quartos upon the republic alone; the rest of his undertaking remaining unfinished. There only therefore remained the history of Echard, in five volumes octavo, whose plan and mine seemed to coincide, and had his execution been equal to his design, it had precluded the present undertaking. But the truth is, it is so poorly written, the facts so crowded, the narration so spiritless, and the characters so indistinctly marked, that the most ardent curiosity must cool in the perusal, and the noblest transactions that ever warmed the human heart, as described by him, must cease to interest.
I have endeavoured therefore in the present work (or rather compilation) to obviate the inconveniencies arising from the exuberance of the former, as well as from the unpleasantness of the latter. It was supposed, that two volumes might be made to comprize all that was requisite to be known, or pleasing to be read, by such as only examined history, to prepare them for more important studies. Too much time may be given even to laudable pursuits, and there is none more apt than this, to allure the student from more necessary branches of learning, and, if I may so express it, entirely to engross his industry. What is here offered therefore, may be sufficient for all, but such as make history the peculiar business of their lives; to such, the most tedious narrative will seem but an abridgment, as they measure the merits of a work, rather by the quantity, than the quality of its contents. Others, however, who think more soberly, will agree, that in so extensive a field as that of the transactions of Rome, more judgment may be shewn, by selecting what is important, than by adding what is obscure. The history of this empire has been extended to six volumes folio, and I aver, that with very little learning, it might be encreased to sixteen more; but what would this be, but to load the subject with unimportant facts, and so to weaken the narration, as that, like the empire it described, it must necessarily sink beneath the weight of its own acquisitions.
But while I thus have endeavoured to avoid prolixity, it was found no easy matter to prevent crowding the facts, and to give every narrative its proper play. In reality, no art can continue to avoid opposite defects; he who indulges in minute particularities, will be often languid; and he who studies conciseness, will as frequently be dry and unentertaining. As it was my aim to comprize as much as possible in the smallest compass, it is feared the work will often be subject to the latter imputation; but it was impossible to furnish the public with a cheap Roman history in two volumes octavo, and at the same time to give all that warmth to the narrative, all those colourings to the description, which works of twenty times the bulk have room to exhibit. I shall be fully satisfied therefore, if it furnishes an interest sufficient to allure the reader to the end, and this is a claim, to which few abridgements can justly make pretensions.
To these objections, there are some who may add, that I have rejected many of the modern improvements in Roman history, and that every character is left in full possession of that fame or infamy which it obtained from its cotemporaries, or those who wrote immediately after. I acknowledge the charge, for it appears now too late to rejudge the virtues or the vices of those men, who were but very incompletely known even to their own historians. The Romans perhaps, upon many occasions, formed wrong ideas of virtue, but they were by no means so ignorant or abandoned in general, as not to give their brightest characters the greatest share of their applause, and I do not know whether it be fair, to try pagan actions by the standard of christian morality.
But whatever may be my execution of this work, I have very little doubts about the success of the undertaking; the subject is the noblest that ever employed human attention, and instead of requiring a writer's aid, will even support him with its splendor. The Empire of the world rising from the meanest origin, and growing great by a strict veneration for religion, and an implicit confidence in its commanders: continually changing the mode, but seldom the spirit of its government, being a constitution, in which the military power, whether under the name of citizens or soldiers, almost always prevailed: adopting all the improvements of other nations with the most indefatigable industry, and submitting to be taught by those whom it afterwards subdued. This is a picture that must affect us, however it be disposed; these materials must have their value, under the hand of the meanest workman.
CONTENTS.
CHAP. I.
OF the origin of the Romans— page 1
CHAP. II.
From the building of Rome to the death of Romulus— page 8
CHAP. III.
From the death of Romulus to the death of Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome— page 21
CHAP. IV.
From the death of Numa to the death of Tullus Hostilius, the third king of Rome 25
CHAP. V.
From the death of Tullus Hostilius to the death of Ancus Martius, the fourth king of Rome— page 31
CHAP. VI.
From the death of Ancus Martius to the death of Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome— page 34
CHAP. VII.
From the death of Tarquinius Priscus to the death of Servius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome— page 40
CHAP. VIII.
From the death of Servius Tullius to the banishment of Tarquinius Superbus, the seventh and last king of Rome— page 49
CHAP. IX.
From the banishment of Tarquin to the appointment of the first Dictator— page 60
CHAP. X.
From the creation of the first Dictator to the election of the Tribunes of the people 75
CHAP. XI.
From the creation of the Tribunes to the appointment of the Decemviri— page 90
CHAP. XII.
From the creation of the Decemviri to the extinction of that office— page 133
CHAP. XIII.
From the expulsion of the Decemviri to the
urning of Rome by the Gauls-153
CHAP. XIV.
From the wars of the Samnites and the wars with Pyrrhus, to the beginning of the first Punic war, when the Romans first went out of Italy— page 197
CHAP. XV.
From the beginning of the first Punic war to the beginning of the second, when the Romans began to grow powerful by sea 231
CHAP. XVI.
From the end of the first Punic war to the end of the second— page 249
CHAP. XVII.
From the end of the second Punic war to the end of the third, which terminated in the destruction of Carthage— page 294
CHAP. XVIII.
From the destruction of Carthage to the end of the sedition of the Gracchi— page 311
CHAP. XIX.
From the sedition of Gracchus to the perpetual Dictatorship of Sylla, which was the first step towards the ruin of the commonwealth of Rome— page 331
CHAP. XX.
From the perpetual Dictatorship of Sylla to the Triumvirate of Caesar, Pompey and Crassus— page 390
CHAP. XXI.
From the beginning of the first Triumvirate to the death of Pompey— page 419
THE HISTORY OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF ROME.
CHAPTER I. Of the origin of the Romans.
ALL nations seem willing to derive merit from the splendor of their original, and where history is silent, they generally supply the defect with fable. The Romans were particularly desirous of being thought descended from the gods, as if to hide the meanness of their real ancestry. Aeneas, the son of Venus and Anchises, having escaped from the destruction of
A. M.
2284
Troy, after many adventures and dangers, arrived in Italy, where he was kindly received by Latinus, king of the Latins, who gave him his daughter Lavinia in marriage. Italy was then, as it is now, divided into a number of small states, independent of each other, and consequently subject to frequent contentions among themselves. Turnus, king of the Rutuli, was the first who opposed Aeneas, he having long made pretensions to Lavinia himself. A war ensued, in which the Trojan hero was victorious and Turnus slain. In consequence of this, Aeneas built a city, which was called Lavinium, in honour of his wife, and some time after, engaging in another war against Mezentius, one of the petty kings of the country, he was vanquished in turn and died in battle, after a reign of four years. Ascanius, his son, succeeded to the kingdom, and to him, Silvius, a second son, whom he had by Lavinia. It would be tedious and uninteresting to recite a dry catalogue of the kings that followed, and of whom we know little more than the names, it will be sufficient to say, that the succession continued for near four hundred years in the family, and that Numitor, the fifteenth from Aeneas, was the last king of Alba.
Numitor, who took possession of the kingdom in consequence of his father's will, had a brother named Amulius, to whom were left the treasures which had been brought from Troy. As riches but too generally prevail against right, Amulius made use of his wealth to supplant his brother, and soon found means to possess himself of the kingdom. Not content with the crime of usurpation, he added that of murder also. Numitor's sons first fell a sacrifice to his suspicions, and to remove all aprehensions of being one day disturbed in his ill got power, he caused Rhea Silvia, his brother's only daughter, to become a vestal virgin, which office obliging her to perpetual celibacy, made him less uneasy as to the claims of posterity.
His precautions, however, were all frustrated in the event; for Rhea Silvia going to fetch water from a neighbouring grove, was met and ravished by a man, whom, perhaps to palliate her offence, she averred to be Mars, the god of war. Whoever this lover of hers might have been, whether some person who deceived her by assuming so great a name, or Amulius himself, as some writers are pleased to affirm, it matters not; certain it is, that in due time, she was brought to bed of two boys, who were no sooner born, than devoted, by the usurper, to destruction. The mother was condemned to be buried alive, the usual punishment for vestals who had violated their chastity, and the twins were ordered to be flung into the river Tyber. It happened, however, at the time this rigorous sentence was put into execution, that the river had more than usually overflowed its banks, so that the place where the children were thrown being at a distance from the main current, the water was too shallow to drown them. In this situation, therefore, they continued without harm, and that no part of their preservation might want its wonders, we are told, that they were for some time suckled there by a wolf, until Faustulus, the king's herdsman, finding them thus exposed, brought them home to Acca Laurentia, his wife, who brought them up as her own. Some, however, will have it, that the nurse's name was Lupa, which gave rise to the story of their being nourished by a wolf; but it is needless to weed out a single improbability from accounts where the whole is overgrown with fable.
Romulus and Remus, the twins thus strangely preserved, seemed early to discover abilities and desires above the meanness of their supposed original. The shepherds life began to displease them, and from tending flocks, or hunting wild beasts, they soon turned their strength against the robbers round the country, whom they often stript of their plunder to share it among their fellow shepherds.
In one of these excursions it was that Remus was taken prisoner by Numitor's herdsmen, who brought him before the king, and accused him of the very crime which he had so often attempted to suppress. Romulus, however, being informed by Faustulus of his real birth, was not remiss in assembling a number of his fellow shepherds, in order to rescue his brother from prison, and force the kingdom from the hands of the usurper. Yet being too feeble to act openly, he directed his followers to assemble near the place by different ways, while Remus with equal vigilance gained upon the citizens within. Amulius thus beset on all sides, and not knowing what expedient to think of for his security, was during his amazement and distraicton taken and slain, while Numitor, who had been deposed forty-two years, recognized his grandsons, and was once more restored to the throne.
Numitor being thus in quiet possession of the kingdom, his grandsons resolved to build a city upon those hills where they had formerly lived as shepherds. The king had too many obligations to them not to approve their design, he appointed them lands, and gave permission to such of his subjects as thought proper, to settle in their new colony. Many of the neighbouring shepherds also, and such as were fond of change, repaired to the intended city, and prepared to raise it. For the more speedy carrying on this work, the people were divided into two parts, each of which, it was supposed would industriously emulate each other. But what was designed for an advantage, proved nearly fatal to this infant colony; it gave birth to two factions, one preferring Romulus, the other Remus, who themselves were not agreed upon the spot where the city should stand. To terminate this difference, they were recommended by the king, to take an omen from the flight of birds, and that he whose omen should be most favourable, should in all respects direct the other. In compliance with this advice, they both took their stations upon different hills; to Remus appeared six vultures, to Romulus, twice that number, so that each party thought itself victorious, the one having the first omen, the other the most numerous. This produced a contest which ended in a battle wherein Remus was slain, and it is even said, that he was killed by his brother, who being provoked at his leaping contemptuously over the city wall, struck him dead upon the spot, at the same time professing, that none should ever insult his walls with impunity.
Romulus being now sole commander, and eighteen years of age, began the foundation of a city that was one day to give laws to the world. It was called Rome, after the name of
A. M.
3252
the founder, and built upon the Palatine hill,
A. C.
752
on which he had taken his successful omen. The city was at first almost square, containing about a thousand houses. It was near a mile in compass, and commanded a small territory round it of about eight miles over. However, small as it appears, it was notwithstanding, worse inhabited, and the first method made use of to encrease its numbers, was the opening a sanctuary for all malefactors, slaves, and such as were desirous of novelty. These came in great multitudes, and contributed to encrease the number of our legislator's new subjects. To have a just idea therefore of Rome in its infant state, we have only to imagine a collection of cottages surrounded by a feeble wall, rather built to serve as a military retreat, than for the purposes of civil society, rather filled with a tumultuous and vicious rabble, than with subjects bred to obedience and controll; we have only to conceive men bred to rapine, living in a place that merely seemed calculated for the security of plunder; and yet to our astonishment, we shall soon find this tumultuous concourse uniting in the strictest bonds of society; this lawless rabble putting on the most sincere regard for religion, and though composed of the dregs of mankind, setting examples to all the world of valour and of virtue.
CHAP. II. From the building of Rome to the death of Romulus.
SCARCE was the city raised above its foundation, when its rude inhabitants began to think of giving some form to their constitution: their first object was to unite liberty and empire; to form a kind of mixt monarchy, by which all power was to be divided between the prince and the people. Romulus, by an act of great generosity, left them at liberty to chuse whom they would for their king, and they in gratitude, concurred to elect their founder: he was accordingly acknowledged as chief of their religion, sovereign magistrate of Rome, and general of the army. Beside a guard to attend his person, it was agreed that he should be preceded wherever he went by twelve men, armed with axes tied up in a bundle of rods, who were to serve as executioners of the law, and to impress his new subjects with an idea of his authority. Yet still this authority was under very great restrictions, as his whole power consisted in calling the senate together, in assembling the people, in conducting the army, when it was decreed by the other part of the constitution, that they should go to war, and in appointing the questors or treasurers of the public money, officers which we may suppose, at that time had but very little employment, as neither the soldiers nor magistrates received any pay.
The senate, which was to act as counsellors to the king, was composed of an hundred of the principal citizens of Rome, consisting of men whose age, wisdom or valour, gave them a natural authority over their fellow subjects. The king named the first senator, and appointed him to the government of the city, whenever war required the general's absence. In this respectable assembly was transacted all the important business of the state, the king himself presiding, altho' every question was to be determined by a majority of voices. As they were supposed to have a parental affection for the people, they were called fathers, and their descendants, patricians. To the patricians belonged all the dignified offices of the state, as well as of the priesthood. To these they were appointed by the senate and the people, while the lower ranks of citizens, who were thus excluded from all views of promotion for themselves, were to expect advantages only from their valour in war, or their assiduity in agriculture.
The plebeians, who composed the third part of the legislature, assumed to themselves the power of authorising those laws which were pass'd by the king or the senate. All things relative to peace or war, to the election of magistrates, and even to the chusing a king, were confirmed by their suffrages. In their numerous assemblies all enterprizes against the enemy were proposed, while the senate had only a power of rejecting or approving their designs. Thus was the state composed of three orders, each a check upon the other; the people resolved whether the proposals of the king were pleasing to them, the senate deliberated upon the expediency of the measure, and the king gave vigour and spirit by directing the execution. But though the people by these regulations seemed in possession of great power, yet there was one circumstance which contributed greatly to its diminution, namely, the rights of patronage, which were lodged in the senate. The king, sensible that in every state there must be a dependance of the poor upon the powerful, gave permission to every plebeian to chuse one among the senators for a patron. The bond between them was of the strongest kind; the patron was to give protection to his client, to assist him with his advice and fortune, to plead for him before the judge, and to rescue him from every oppression. On the other hand, the client attached himself to the interests of his patron, assisted him, if poor, to portion his daughters, to pay his debts, or his ransom, in case of being taken prisoner. He was to follow him on every service of danger; whenever he stood candidate for an office, he was obliged to give him his suffrage, and was prohibited from giving testimony in a court of justice, whenever his evidence affected the interests of his patron. These reciprocal duties were held so sacred, that any who violated them were ever after held infamous, and excluded from all the protection of the laws: so that from hence we see the senate in effect possessed of the suffrages of their clients, since all that was left the people was only the power of chusing what patron they should obey. Among a nation so barbarous and fierce as the first Romans, it was wise to enforce obedience, as the most requisite duty.
The first care of the new-created king was to attend to the interests of religion, and to endeavour to humanize his subjects, by the notion of other rewards and punishments than those of human law. The precise form of their worship is unknown; but the greatest part of the religion of that age consisted in a firm reliance upon the credit of their soothfayers, who pretended, from observations on the flight of birds and the entrails of beasts, to direct the present, and to dive into futurity. This pious fraud, which first arose from ignorance, soon became a most useful machine in the hands of government. Romulus, by an express law, commanded, that no election should be made, no enterprize undertaken, without first consulting the soothsayers. With equal wisdom he ordained, that no new divinities should be introduced into public worship, that the priesthood should continue for life, and that none should be eleccted into it before the age of fifty. He forbad them to mix fable with the mysteries of their religion; and that they should be qualified to teach others, he ordered that they should be the the historiographers of the times; so that while instructed by priests like these, the people could never degenerate into total barbarity.
Of his other laws we have but few fragments remaining. In these however we learn, that wives were forbid, upon any pretext whatsoever, to separate from their husbands; while, on the contrary, the husband was empowered to repudiate the wife, and even to put her to death with the consent of her relations, in ease she was detected in adultery, in attempting to poison, in making false keys, or even of having drank too much wine. His laws between children and their parents were yet still more severe: the father had entire power over his offspring, both of fortune and life, he could sell them or imprison them at any time of their lives, or in any stations to which they were arrived. The father might expose his children, if born with any deformities, having previously communicated his intentions to his five next of kindred. Our lawgiver seemed more kind even to his enemies, for his subjects were prohibited from killing them after they had surrendered, or even from selling them: his ambition only aimed at diminishing the number of his enemies by making friends of them.
After so many endeavours to encrease his subjects, and so many laws to regulate them, he next gave orders to ascertain their numbers. The whole amounted but to three thousand foot, and about as many hundred horsemen, capable of bearing arms. These therefore were divided equally into three tribes, and to each he assigned a different part of the city. Each of these tribes were subdivided into ten curiae or companies, consisting of an hundred men each, with a centurion to command it, a priest called curio to perform the sacrifices, and two of the principal inhabitants, called duumviri, to distribute justice. According to the number of curiae he divided the lands into thirty parts, reserving one portion for public uses, and another for religious ceremonies. The simplicity and frugality of the times will be best understood by observing, that each citizen had not above two acres of ground for his own subsistance. Of the horsemen mentioned above, those were chosen ten from each curia; they were particularly appointed to fight round the person of the king; of them his guard was composed, and from their alacrity in battle, or from the name of their first commander, they were called celeres, a word equivalent to our light horsemen.
A government thus wisely instituted, it may be supposed, induced numbers to come and live under it; each day added to its strength, multitudes flock'd in from all the adjacent towns, and it only seemed to want women to ascertain its duration. In this exigence, Romulus, by the advice of the senate, sent deputies among the Sabines, his neighbours, entreating their alliance, and upon these terms offering to cement the most strict confederacy with them. The Sabines, who were then considered as the most warlike people of Italy, rejected the proposition with disdain, and some even added raillery to the refusal, demanding, that as he had opened a sanctuary for fugitive slaves, why he had not also opened another for prostitute women. This answer quickly raised the indignation of the Romans; and the king, in order to gratify their resentment, while he at the same time should people his city, resolved to obtain by force, what was denied to entreaty. For this purpose he proclaimed a feast, in honour of Neptune, throughout all the neighbouring villages, and made the most magnificent preparations for it. These feasts were generally preceded by sacrifices, and ended in shews of wrestlers, gladiators, and chariotcourses. The Sabines, as he had expected, were among the foremost who came to be spectators, bringing their wives and daughters with them to share the pleasure of the sight. The inhabitants also of many of the neighbouring towns came, who were received by the Romans with marks of the most cordial hospitality. In the mean time the games began, and while the strangers were most intent upon the spectacle, a number of the Roman youth rushed in among them with drawn swords, seized the youngest and most beautiful women, and carried them off by violence. In vain the parents protested against this breach of hospitality; in vain the virgins themselves at first opposed the attempts of their ravishers; perseverance and caresses obtained those favours which timidity at first denied; so that the betrayers, from being objects of aversion, soon became partners of their dearest affections.
But however the affront might have been borne by them, it was not so easily put up by their parents; a bloody war ensued. The cities of Cenina, Antemna and Crustumium were the first who resolved to revenge the common cause, which the Sabines seemed too dilatory in pursuing. These, by making seperate inroads, became a more easy conquest to Romulus, who first overthrew the Ceninenses, slew their king Acron in single combat, and made an offering of the royal spoils to Jupiter Feretrius, on the spot where the capitol was afterwards built. The Antemnates and Crustuminians shared the same fate, their armies were overthrown, and their cities taken. The conqueror however made the most merciful use of his victory; for instead of destroying their towns, or lessening their numbers, he only placed colonies of Romans in them, to serve as a frontier to repress more distant invasions.
Tatius, king of Cures, a Sabine city, was the last, although the most formidable, who undertook to revenge the disgrace his country had suffered. He entered the Roman territories at the head of twenty-five thousand men, and not content with a superiority of forces, he added stratagem also. Tarpeia, who was daughter to the commander of the Capitoline hill, happened to fall into his hands, as she went without the walls of the city to fetch water. Upon her he prevailed, by means of large promises, to betray one of the gates to his army. The reward she engaged for, was what the soldiers wore on their arms, by which she meant their bracelets. They however either mistaking her meaning, or willing to punish her perfidy, threw their bucklers upon her as they entered, and crushed her to death beneath them. The Sabines being thus possessed of the Capitoline, had the advantage of continuing the war at their pleasure, and for some time only slight encounters passed between them. At length however, the tediousness of this contest began to weary out both parties, so that each wished, out neither would stoop to sue for peace. The desire of peace often gives vigour to measures in war; wherefore both sides resolving to terminate their doubts by a decisive action, a general engagement ensued, which was renewed for several days, with almost equal success. They both fought for all that was valuable in life, and neither could think of submitting: it was in the valley between the Capitoline and Quirinal hills, that the last engagement was fought between the Romans and the Sabines. The engagement became general, and the slaughter prodigious, when the attention of both sides was suddenly turned from the scene of horror before them, to another infinitely more striking. The Sabine women who had been carried off by the Romans, were seen with their hair loose and their ornaments neglected, flying in between the combatants, regardless of their own danger, and with loud outcries only solicitous for that of their parents, their husbands and their children.
"If", cried they, "you are resolved upon slaughter, turn your arms upon us, since we only are the cause of your animosity. If any must die, let it be us, since, if our parents or our husbands fall, we must be equally miserable in being the surviving cause."
A spectacle so moving could not be resisted by the combatants, both sides for a while, as if by mutual impulse, let fall their weapons, and beheld the distress in silent amazement. The tears and entreaties of their wives and daughters at length prevailed, an accommodation ensued, by which it was agreed; that Romulus and Tatius should reign jointly in Rome, with equal power and prerogative, that an hundred Sabines should be admitted into the senate, that the city should still retain its former name, but that the citizens should be called Quirites, after Cures, the principal town of the Sabines, and that both nations being thus united, such of the Sabines as chose it, should be admitted to live in and enjoy all the privileges of citizens in Rome. Thus every storm which seemed to threaten this growing empire, only served to encrease its vigour. That army, which in the morning had resolved upon its destruction, came in the evening with joy to be enrolled among the number of its citizens. Romulus saw his dominions and his subjects encreased by more than half, in the space of a few hours; and, as if fortune meant every way to assist his greatness, Tatius, his partner in the government, was killed about five years after by the Lavinians, for having protected some servants of his, who had plundered them and slain their ambassadors; so that by this accident Romulus once more saw himself sole monarch of Rome.
Rome being greatly strengthened by this new acquisition of power, began to grow formidable to her neighbours, and it may be supposed, that pretexts for war were not wanting, when prompted by jealousy on their side, and by ambition on that of the Romans. Fidena and Cameria, two neighbouring cities, were subdued and taken. Veii also, one of the most powerful states of Etruria, shared nearly the same fate, after two fierce engagements they sued for peace and a league, which was granted upon giving up a seventh part of their dominions, their salt-pits near the river, and hostages for greater security.
Successes like these produced an equal share of pride in the conqueror. From being cont
nted with those limits which had been wisely fixed to his power, he began to affect absolute sway, and to govern those laws, to which he had himself formerly professed implicit obedience. The senate was particularly displeased at his conduct, finding themselves only used as instruments to ratify the rigour of his commands. We are not told the precise manner which they made use of to get rid of the tyrant; some say that he was torn in pieces in the senate-house; others, that he disappeared while reviewing his army; certain it is, that from the secrecy of the fact, and the concealment of the body, they took occasion to persuade the multitude, that he was taken up into heaven: thus him whom they could not bear as a king, they were contented to worship as a god.
Romulus reigned thirty-seven years, and after his death, had a temple built to him, under the name of Quirinus, one of the senators solemnly affirming, that he had appeared to him, and desired to be invoked by that title. We see little more in the character of this prince, than what might be expected in such an age, great temperance and great valour, which generally make up the catalogue of savage virtues. However the grandeur of an empire admired by the whole world, creates in us an admiration of the founder, without much examining his title.
CHAP. III. From the death of Romulus to the death of Numa Pompilius, the second king of Rome.
ROME was already grown from its small
U. C.
38
beginnings into a very formidable state, her forces now amounted to forty-six thousand foot and a thousand horse. The kingdom of Alba also fell in by the death of Numitor, so that it now required some time to unite so great a concourse of new-made subjects into an obedience to one governor: in fact, the city seemed greatly divided in the choice of a successor. The Sabines were for having the king chosen from their body, but the Romans could not bear the thoughts of advancing a stranger to the throne. In this perplexity the senate undertook to supply the place of the king, by taking the government, each of them in turn, for five days, and during that time, enjoying all the honours and all the privileges of royalty. This new form of government held a year, nor is it known whether the senate intended by continuing it, to preserve the sovereign power among themselves, or only to wait for a proper object of their choice, on whom to devolve the regal power. The plebeians, however, who saw that this method of transferring power was only multiplying their masters, insisted upon altering that mode of government, allowing the senate a choice, either of nominating a king, or electing annual magistrates from among their number. The senate being thus driven to an election, for some time debated upon the proper form, till at length it was agreed, that the party which elected, should nominate from the body of the other, so that the new king would have equal attachments to both; to the one as his countrymen, to the other as his electors. In consequence of this the choice being left to the Roman part of the senate, they pitched upon Numa Pompilius, a Sabine, and their choice was received with universal approbation by the rest of the senate and the people.
Numa Pompilius, who was now about forty, had long been eminent for his piety, his justice, moderation and exemplary life. He was skilled in all the learning and philosophy of the Sabines, and lived at home at Cures, contented with a private fortune, unambitious of higher honours. It was not therefore without reluctance that he accepted the dignity that was conferred upon him, he for some time continued obstinately to refuse it, but at length, at the request of his father, and the persuasions of the ambassadors who were sent to him from Rome, he consented to accept of the kingdom, so that his acceptance produced such joy, that the people seemed not so much to receive a king as a kingdom.
The Romans were fond of thinking that providence industriously adapted the various dispositions of its kings to the different necessities of the people, and indeed in the present instance they were not much mistaken. No monarch could be more proper for them than Numa, at a conjuncture when the government was composed of various petty states
ately subdued, and but ill united among each other; they wanted a master who could by his laws and precepts soften their fierce dispositions, and by his example induce them to a love of religion, and every milder virtue. Under Numa therefore, the people became more submissive and social, but what gave them still greater force, if considered in the light of conquerors, was the spirit of religion, which he implanted amongst them. This continued to operate through a long succession of ages, for what could resist the greatest valour, when impelled by the most profound superstition.
In the reign of Numa therfore, we are to look only for the pacific virtues, as his whole time was spent in inspiring his subjects with a love of piety, and a veneration for the gods. He built many new temples, he instituted feasts, and the sanctity of his life gave him credit enough to persuade his people, that he had a particular correspondence with the goddess Egeria. By her advice he built the temple of Janus, which was to be shut in time of peace, and open in war; he ordained vestal virgins, who being four in number, had very great privileges allowed them, such as of being preceded by the fasces or ensigns of royal power, and of pardoning malefactors in case of an accidental meeting: he instituted pontiffs, and enrolled himself among the number: he brought up the orders of the Salian and Fecial priesthood, the one to preserve the sacred shields called ancillia, which he pretended had dropt down from heaven, and which, while remaining in Rome, the city could never be taken; the other to judge of the equity of war, and to proclaim it with great ceremony.
For the encouragement of agriculture, he divided those lands which Romulus had gained in war, among the poorer part of the people; he abated the rigour of the laws, which his predecessor had instituted, with regard to parents and children, making it unlawful for a father to sell his son after marriage, because he thought it unjust, that a woman who had married a freeman, should be constrained to live with a slave: he regulated also the kalendar, and abolished the distinction between Romans and Sabines, by dividing the people according to their several trades, and compelling them to live together. Thus having lived to the age of more than fourscore years, and having reigned forty-three in profound peace, he died, ordering his body to be buried in a stone coffin, contrary to the custom of the times, and his books of ceremonies, which consisted of twelve in Latin and as many in Greek, to be buried by his side, in another. These were taken up about four hundred years after, and because it was thought impious to communicate the mysteries they contained to the public, they were burnt by order of the senate, which perhaps was willing to hide the futility of the work by this extraordinary reverence for the contents.
CHAP. IV. From the death of Numa to the death of Tullus Hostilius, the third king of Rome.
UPON the death of Numa, the government
U. C.
82
once more devolved upon the senate, and continued with them till the people elected Tullus Hostilius for their king, which choice had also the concurrence of the other part of the constitution. This monarch, who was grandson to a noble Roman, who had formerly signalized himself against the Sabines, was every way unlike his predecessor, being entirely devoted to war, and more fond of enterprize, than even the founder of the empire himself had been; so that he only sought a pretext for leading his forces to the field.
The Albans were the first people who gave him an opportunity of indulging his favourite inclinations. Two neighbouring states, both eager for war, and both in some measure subsisting by plunder, can never want a pretext to colour the violence of a first aggression. A few Roman shepherds had, it seems, committed an inroad upon the territories of Alba; a number of Alban shepherds had made reprisals upon them; ambassadors were sent from either state, complaining of the injury; no redress was given, and a formal war was declared on both sides, which neither however would bear the blame of having first given rise to. There were indeed many reasons for making these two states unwilling to come to an open rupture; they were descended from the same original, and the ties of consanguinity still held many of them united. There were also some neighbouring states, enemies to both, that only sought an opportunity of falling upon either. It was with these dispositions, that after some warlike stratagems on either side, the Roman and Alban forces met, about five miles from Rome, prepared to decide the fate of their respective kingdoms, for almost every battle in these barbarous times was decisive. The two armies were for some time drawn out in array, awaiting the signal to begin, both chiding the length of that dreadful suspense which kept them from death or victory. But an unexpected proposal from the Alban general put a stop to the onset, for stepping in between both armies, he offered the Romans the choice of deciding the dispute by single combat; adding, that the side whose champion was overcome, should submit to the conqueror. A proposal like this suited the impetuous temper of the Roman king, and was embraced with joy by his subjects, each of which hoped, that he himself should be chosen to fight the cause of his country. Many valiant men offered themselves, but could not be accepted to the exclusion of others, till, at last, in this incertitude of choice, chance suggested a remedy. There were at that time three twin brothers in each army, those of the Romans were called Horatii, and these of the Albans Curiatii, all six remarkable for their courage, strength and activity, and to these it was resolved to commit the management of the combat. When the previous ceremony of oaths and protestations, binding the army of the vanquished party to submit to that of the victorious were over, the combatants were led forth amidst the encouragements, the prayers, and the shouts of their country. They were warned of the greatness of the cause; they were reminded of their former atchievments; they were admonished, that their fathers, their countrymen, and gods were spectators of their behaviour. At length, warm'd with the importance of the trial, the champions on each side met in combat together, and totally regardless of his own safety, each only sought the destruction of his opponent. The spectators, in horrid silence, trembled at every blow, and wished to share the danger, till at length fortune seemed to decide the glory of the field. Victory, that had hitherto been doubtful, appeared to declare against the Romans; they beheld two of their champions lying dead upon the plain, and the three Curiatii, who were wounded, slowly endeavouring to pursue the survivor, who seemed by flight to beg for mercy. At this, the Alban army, unable to suppress their joy, raised a loud acclamation, while the Romans inwardly cursed and repined at the cowardice of him whom they saw in circumstances of such baseness. Soon however they began to alter their sentiments, when they perceived that his flight was only pretended, in order to separate his antagonists whom he was unable to oppose united; for quickly after stopping his course, and turning upon him who followed most closely behind, he laid him dead at his feet: the second brother, who came on to assist him who was fallen, only shared the same fate; and now there remained but the last Curiatius to conquer, who, fatigued and quite disabled with his wounds, slowly came up to offer an easy victory. He was killed, almost unresisting, while the conqueror exclaiming, offered him as a victim to the superiority of the Romans, whom now the Alban army consented to obey.
A victory so great, and attended with such signal effects deserved every honour that Rome could bestow; but as if none of the virtues of that age were to be without alloy, the very hand that in the morning was exerted to save his country, was before night embrued in the blood of a sister. For returning triumphant from the field, it raised his indignation to behold her bathed in tears, and lamenting the loss of her lover, one of the Curiatii, to whom she was betrothed. But when, upon seeing the vest which she had made for her lover, among the number of his spoils, and beginning to upbraid him, it provoked him beyond the power of sufferance, so that he slew her in a rage. This action greatly displeased the senate, and drew on the condemnation of the magistrates, but he was pardoned by making his appeal to the people.
Things being in this posture, Hostilius resolved to avail himself of the late victory, by confirming the submission of Alba, and taking the proper steps to quell the insolence of the inhabitants of Fidena and Veii, who had been making preparations to shake off their subjection. His designs were crowned with success in both. A victory over the latter, restrained their attempts for some time; and as to the former, having convicted Metius Suffetius, their general, of treason, he caused him to be torn to pieces by horses; and still more, to give no ground for future revolts, he utterly demolished the city of Alba, and transplanted the inhabitants to Rome, many of whom he admitted into the senate.
After these successes, he turned his arms against the Sabines, over whom he gained a signal victory by means of his cavalry, whom the enemy were incapable of withstanding. Thus every new war, which depopulates other states, seemed but to add strength and numbers to that of Rome. It was perhaps from a consciousness, that a state of war was the best for his people, that the king entered into one with the Latins, which however was managed but slowly on both sides, no battle being fought, nor no town taken except Medallia, which had formerly been obliged to accept a Roman colony, and was now permitted to be plundered, as an example to prevent the like defection in others. This war lasted almost the rest of this reign, the latter part of which was clouded with terrors from pretended prodigies, while, at the same time, the king saw his people afflicted with a real famine, which it was not in his power to relieve. He died, after a reign of thirty-two years, some say by lightening, with his whole family, others, with more probability, by treason.
CHAP. V. From the death of Tullus Hostilius to the death of Ancus Martius, the fourth king of Rome.
AFTER an interregnum, as in the former case,
U. C.
115
Ancus Martius, the grandson of Numa, was was elected king by the people, and the choice afterwards was confirmed by the senate. As this monarch was a lineal descendant from Numa, so he seemed to make him the great object of his imitation. Indeed he was by nature incapable of making any great figure in war, as he took his name of Ancus, from the crookedness of one of his arms, which he was incapable of extending: however he made up this defect by the most diligent application to all the arts of peace. He instituted the sacred ceremonies which were to precede a declaration of war; he endeavoured to persuade the people, that the calamities which lately befel them and his predecessor, were owing to a neglect of the gods; he took every occasion to advise his subjects to return to the arts of agriculture, and lay aside the less useful stratagems of war.
These institutions and precepts were considered by the neighbouring powers rather as marks of cowardice than of wisdom. The Latins therefore began to make incursions upon his territories, and by their outrages, in some measure, forced him into a war. In this however he still kept up to his character, and previously sent an herald, who, in a peculiar dress, and with a javelin headed with iron in his hand, went to the confines of the enemy, solemnly proclaimed war, and then flung his weapon into their territories, with all the force he was able. The success of this war was equal to its justice; Ancus conquered the Latins, destroyed their cities, removed their inhabitants to Rome, and encreased its territories by the addition of part of theirs. He quelled also an insurrection of the Veii, the Fidenates, and the Volscii, and over the Sabines he obtained a second triumph.
But his victories over the enemy were by no means comparable to his works at home, in raising temples, fortifying the city, making a prison for malefactors, and building a sea-port at the mouth of the Tyber, called Ostia, by which he secured to his subjects the trade of that river, and that of the salt-pits adjacent. Nor was he less careful in encouraging strangers to come and settle with him: the privileges which they obtained, and the justice which was administered by him to all, brought numbers of the most creditable persons from different parts of Italy, who not only encreased the riches of his subjects, but also tended still more to civilize them. Among others of this quality was Lucumon, who afterwards took the name of Lucius, and became his successor in the kingdom, by the name of Lucius Tarquinius. This stranger, who was a person of great accomplishments as well as of large possessions, was very honourably treated by Ancus, who probably was the more prejudiced in his favour, by an offer Tarquinius had made him of all his fortune for public uses. He was accordingly elected into the senate, and appointed guardian to the two sons of Ancus, who, having enriched his subjects and beautified the city, died, after reigning twenty-four years.
CHAP. VI. From the death of Ancus Martius to the death of Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome.
U. C.
138
LUcius Tarquinius Priscus, whose original name, as has been already observed, was Lucumon, and who was appointed guardian to the sons of the late king, took the surname of Tarquinius, from the city Tarquinia, from whence he last came. His father was a merchant of Corinth, who acquired considerable wealth by trade, and had settled in Italy upon account of some troubles at home. His son Lucumon, who inherited his fortune, married a woman of family in the city of Tarquinia, and as his birth, profession and country were contemptible to the nobles of the place, by his wife's persuasions, he came to settle at Rome, where merit only made distinction. On his way thither, say the historians, as he approached the city gate, an eagle, stooping from above, took off his hat, and flying round his chariot for some time, with much noise, put it on again. This, his wife Tanaquil, who it seems was skilled in augury, interpreted as a presage, that he should one day wear the crown, and perhaps it was this which first fired his ambition to pursue it: accordingly, being possessed of great riches, all his actions and expences seemed to aim at popularity. His kind address, his frequent invitations, and his many benefits, gained the esteem and admiration of a simple people, who were yet unskilled in the arts of intrigue, and never considered the views with which those favours were bestowed.
Ancus being dead, and the kingdom, as usual, devolving upon the senate, Tarquin used all his power and arts to set aside the children of the late king, and to get himself elected in their stead. In order to this, upon the day appointed for election, he contrived to have them sent out of the city, and in a set speech to the people, in which he urged his friendship for them, the fortune he had spent among them, and his knowledge of their government, he offered himself for their king. As there was nothing in this harangue that could be contested, it had the desired effect, and the people with one consent, elected him as their sovereign.
A kingdom thus got by intrigue, was notwithstanding governed with equity. In the beginning of his reign, in order to recompence his friends, he added an hundred members more to the senate, which made them, in all, three hundred. He likewise encreased the number of vestal virgins from four to seven, and laid the first foundations of an amphitheatre for the combats of men and beasts, which were afterwards carried to an horrid excess. The first shews however, were only horseracing and boxing, in which, men hired for that purpose from Etruria, fought with gauntlets for a prize: how different these from the combats of a latter age, in which two thousand gladiators were seen at once expiring or dead upon the stage!
His peaceful studies however, were soon interrupted by the inroads of his restless neighbours, particularly the Latins, over whom he triumphed, and whom he forced to beg a peace. He then turned his arms against the Sabines, who had once more risen up against Rome, and had past over the river Tyber, upon a bridge, in order to plunder the Roman territories, and if possible, to sack the city. Tarquin however, soon came up to them on the banks of the river, and gave directions to set fire to a large heap of wood that lay by its side, and then to throw it in; the burning wood floating down the stream, set fire to the enemies bridge, and intercepted their retreat. Nor did he permit them to take measures for opposing him, but attacking them with vigour, routed their army, so that many who escaped the sword, were drowned in attempting to cross over, while their bodies and armour floating down to Rome, brought news of the victory, even before the messengers could arrive.
Tarquin resolving not to give them time to recover from this defeat, followed them into their own country, where by another victory he obliged them to sue for peace, which however they did not obtain, but at the expence of a considerable part of their territories, and of Collatia, a large city, five miles east of Rome. These conquests were followed by several advantages over the Latins, from whom he took many towns, though without gaining any decisive victory.
Tarquin having thus forced his enemies into submission, was resolved not to let his subjects corrupt in indolence, but undertook several public works for the convenience and embellishment of the city. He surrounded it with stronger and larger walls; he adorned the forum or market-place with porticoes; he made many sewers to drain the city, some of which excite the admiration of travellers to this very day. He improved the amphitheatre which his predecessor had begun, and laid the foundation of the capitol, which however he did not live to finish.
In his time also, the augurs came into a great encrease of reputation, and he found it his interest to promote the superstition of the people, as this was in fact but to encrease their obedience. Tanaquil his wife was a great pretender to this art, but Accius Naevius was the most celebrated adept of the kind, that was ever known in Rome. Upon a certain occasion, Tarquin being sensible of his want of cavalry, had some intentions of adding three new companies of knights to those three that had been formerly instituted by Romulus, but he was restrained by the augur, who declared, that it was forbidden by the gods, to alter any of the institutions of their founder. The king, as the historians say, being in a violent passion, upon this resolved to try the augur's skill, and asked him, whether what he was then pondering in his mind could be effected. Naevius having examined his auguries, boldly affirmed that it might: why then, cries the king, with an insulting smile, I had thoughts of cutting this whetstone with a razor. Cut boldly, replied the augur; and the king cut it through accordingly. Thence forward nothing was undertaken in Rome without consulting the augurs, and obtaining their advice and approbation. No assembly was dismissed, nor army levied; no battle fought, nor peace restored, without consulting the chirping and the flight of birds, which, as it may be supposed, the augurs made to speak whatever language they pleased.
Tarquin was not content with a kingdom, without also the ensigns of royalty; in imitation of the Lydian kings, he assumed a crown of gold, an ivory throne, a sceptre with an eagle on the top, and robes of purple. It was perhaps the splendor of these royalties that first raised the envy of the late king's sons, who had now for above thirty-seven years quietly submitted to his government. His design also of adopting Servius Tullius, his son-in-law, for his successor, might have contributed to enflame their resentment. Whatever was the cause of their tardy vengeance, they resolved to destroy him, and at last found means to effect their purpose, by hiring two ruffians, who upon pretence of justice, demanding to speak with the king, struck him dead in his palace with the blow of an ax. The lictors however, who waited upon the person of the king seized the murderers, who were attempting to escape; they were put to death, but the sons of Ancus, who were the instigators, found safety by flight.
Thus fell Lucius Tarquinius, surnamed Priscus, to distinguish him from one of his successors of the same name, aged fifty-six years, of which he had reigned thirty-eight. By having been of Greek extraction, he, in some manner introduced part of the polite arts of that country among his subjects, and though the Romans were as yet very far from being civilized, yet they certainly were much more so than any of the barbarous nations round them.
CHAP. VII. From the death of Tarquinius Priscus to the death of Servius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome.
U. C.
176
THE report of the murder of Tarquin filled all his subjects with complaint and indignation, while the citizens ran from every quarter to the palace, to learn the truth of the account, or to take vengeance on the assassins. In this tumult, Tanaquil, widow of the late king, considering the danger she must incur, in case the conspirators should succeed to the crown; and desirous of having her son-in-law for his successor, with great art dissembled her sorrow and the king's death. She assured the people, from one of the windows of the palace, that he was not killed, but stunned by the blow; that he would shortly recover, and that in the mean time, he had deputed his power to Servius Tullius, his son-in-law. Servius, accordingly as it had been agreed upon between them, issued from the palace, adorned with the ensigns of royalty, and preceded by his lictors, went to dispatch some affairs that related to the public safety; still pretending, that he took all his instructions from the king. This scene of dissimulation continued for some days, till he had made his party good among the nobles, when the death of Tarquin being publickly ascertained, Servius came to the crown, solely at the senate's appointment, and without attempting to gain the suffrages of the people.
Servius was the son of a bondwoman, who had been taken at the sacking of a town belonging to the Latins, and was born whilst his mother was yet a slave. While yet an infant in his cradle, a lambent flame is said to have played round his head, which Tanaquil converted into an omen of his future greatness. Imprest with this opinion, she gave him the best education of the times, and soon after raised him to the honour of being her son-in-law, and appointed him, when the king grew old, to the management of affairs both of a domestic and foreign nature. His conduct in this station gained him the good-will of the people, and what he valued still more, the esteem of the senate.
Upon being acknowledged as king, the chief object of his reign was to encrease the power of the senate, by depressing that of the people; an enterprize attended with extreme difficulty and danger. To compass his intention, he was to work by stratagem, and by seeming to study their interest, bring about a measure that should effectually destroy their authority. The Roman citizens had hitherto been taxed singly, and each paid an equal share to the necessities of the state; this method of contributing to the public exigencies, he pretended to consider as extremely unjust, and proposed one of a more equitable kind, by which every citizen should be only taxed according to his fortune. The populace, who were unable to see into his designs received his project with the loudest applause, and conferred upon him a full power of settling the taxes as he should think proper. To begin therefore, he ordered an exact enumeration to be made of the citizens of Rome, their children and servants, and also a just evaluation of their estates and substance. Their numbers were found to amount to above fourscore thousand men capable of bearing arms, a vast encrease since the time of Romulus. These he divided into six classes, in the first of which he comprized the body of the senate, the patricians, and all those whose fortunes were above eleven hundred thousand asses, or about three hundred and sixty-six pounds of our money, at that time no contemptible fortune in Rome. This class he divided into fourscore centuries or companies, one half of which, being composed of the most aged and respectable persons, were to remain at home for the defence of the city; the other half, composed of the youthful and vigorous, were to follow the general, and to march into the field. Their arms were, a javelin, a spear, and a sword; their armour, a helmet, a cuirass, and cuishes of brass. In this class also was comprized the knights or horsemen, which consisted of eighteen centuries, with two more of the machinists, who followed the camp. The second class, which consisted but of twenty-two centuries or companies, was composed of those who were worth above seventy-five thousand asses, these were accoutered in the same manner with the first class, only instead of a shield, they carried a target. The third class consisted of twenty centuries, and was composed of such as were worth fifty thousand asses. The fourth class consisted of a similar number of centuries, and was composed of such as were worth twenty-five thousand asses. In the fifth class were thirty centuries, and the qualification was eleven thousand asses, these were chiefly employed as slingers and irregulars in the army. In the last class there was but one century, and it seemed considered as of no advantage to the state, except by breeding children, that might one day be useful. These paid no taxes, and were dispensed with from going to war. In all these classes, as in the first, a part, consisting of the old men, were ordained to remain at home for the defence of the city, and the more youthful to fight abroad in their armies. Thus the whole number of the citizens were divided into an hundred and ninety-three centuries, each commanded by a centurion, distinguished by his valour and experience.
The citizens being in this manner ranked, they were next to be taxed, but not as formerly, equally and one by one, but by centuries, each century being obliged to supply an equal share to the exigencies of government. By these means, as the people were extremely numerous in the centuries of the inferior classes, their quota of the tax was proportionably small. It cannot be doubted but this partial exemption from taxes was greatly pleasing to the populace, but they little considered that they were to purchase it at the expence of their former power. For it was but reasonable, that as the senators and the rich furnished most to the necessities of the state, they should also have a proportionable influence in managing its concerns. Accordingly, as they paid their taxes by centuries, he instituted, that they should give their votes in all public transactions, by centuries also. In former deliberations each citizen gave his suffrage singly, and the numbers of the poor always carried it against the power of the rich; but by the regulations of Servius, the senate consisting of a greater number of centuries than all the other classes put together, now entirely out-weighed them in every contention. The plebeians in this manner were left but the shadow of authority, with which however, for some ages, they seemed sufficiently contented, until the encreasing luxury of the times taught one side the abuse of power, and the other, a pride that disdained subordination.
In order to ascertain the encrease or decay of his subjects and their fortunes, he instituted another regulation which he called a lustrum. By this all the citizens were to assemble in the Campus Martius, in complete armour, and in their respective classes, once in five years, and there to give an exact account of their families and fortune. He permitted slaves also to be set free by their masters, and caused such as were thus manumitted, to be distributed among the lower classes of the city.
The king having enjoyed a long reign, thus spent in settling the domestic policy of the state, and also not unattentive to foreign concerns, for he overthrew the Etrurians in many battles, and triumphed over them three several times, conceived reasonable hopes of concluding it with tranquility and ease. Servius had even thoughts of laying down his power, and having formed the kingdom into a republick▪ to retire into obscurity; but so generous a design was frustrated ere it could be put in execution.
In the beginning of his reign, to secure his throne by every precaution, he had married his two daughters to the two grand-sons of Tarquin; and, as he knew that the women were of opposite dispositions, as well as their intended husbands, he resolved to cross their tempers, by giving each to him of a contrary turn of temper; her that was meek and gentle, to him that was bold and furious; her that was ungovernable and proud, to him that was remarkable for a contrary character: by this he supposed, that each would correct the failings of the other, and that the mixture would be productive only of concord. The event however proved otherwise. Lucius, his haughty son-in-law, soon grew displeased with the meekness of his consort, and placed his whole affections upon Tullia, his brother's wife, who answered his passion with sympathetic ardour. As their wishes were ungovernable, they soon resolved to break through every restraint that offered to prevent their union; both undertook to murder their consorts, which they effected, and were accordingly soon after married together. A first crime ever produces a second; from the destruction of their consorts, they proceeded to conspiring that of the king. They began by raising factions against him, alledging his illegal title to the crown, and Lucius by claiming it as his own, as heir to Tarquin. But Tullius, by his prudence and great moderation, defeated this design in the outset, coming off with great honour both with the senate and people, which brought Lucius to a feigned repentance on his side, and produced a real reconciliation on that of the king. Tullia however, still continuing to add flame to her husband's ambition, which was already all on fire, he continued his intrigues among the senate, attaching the old to him, by putting them in mind of their obligations to his family▪ the young, by gifts for the present, and promises of much greater things upon his coming to the crown. At length, when he found them ripe for seconding his views, he entered the senate house, adorned with all the ensigns of royalty, and placing himself upon the throne, began to harangue them upon the obscurity of the king's birth, and the injustice of his title. While he was yet speaking, Servius entered, attended by a few followers, and seeing his throne thus rudely invaded, offered to push the usurper from his seat; but Tarquin being in the vigour of youth, threw the old man down the steps which led to the throne, and some of his adherents being instructed for that purpose, followed the king, as he was feebly attempting to get to the palace, and dispatched him, throwing his body all mangled and bleeding, as a public spectacle into the street. In the mean time, Tullia burning with impatience for the event, was informed of what her husband had done, and resolving to be among the first who should salute him as monarch, ordered her chariot to drive to the senate-house, where her savage joy seemed to disgust every beholder. Upon her return▪ when her charioteer approached the place where the old king, her father's body lay exposed and bloody, the man all amazed at the inhuman spectacle, and not willing to trample upon it with his horses feet, offered to turn another way, but this only served to encrease the fierceness of her anger, she threw the footstool at his head, and ordered him to drive over it without deviation.
This was the end of Servius Tullius, a prince of eminent justice and moderation, after an useful and prosperous reign of forty-four years. Tho' the dominions of Rome had been but little encreased by him, yet they acquired a stability under his government, which far exceeded the transient splendor of an extensive, but hasty conquest.
CHAP. VIII. From the death of Servius Tullius to the Banishment of Tarquinius Superbus, the seventh and last king of Rome.
LUCIUS Tarquinius, afterwards called
U. C.
220
Superbus, or the proud, having placed himself upon the throne, in consequence of his violent attempt, was resolved to support his dignity with the same violence with which it was acquired. Regardless of the senate or the people's approbation, he seemed to claim the crown by an hereditary right, and refused the late king's body inhumation, under pretence of his being an usurper. All the good part of mankind however, looked upon his accession with detestation and horror, and this act of inefficient cruelty only served to confirm their hatred. Conscious of this, he ordered all such as he suspected to have been attached to Servius, to be put to death, and fearing the natural consequences of his tyranny, encreased the guard round his person.
His chief policy seems to have been to keep the people always employed either in wars or public works, by which means he diverted their attention from his unlawful method of coming to the crown. With this view, he first marched against the Sabines, who refused to pay him obedience, and soon reduced them to submission. He next began a war with the Volsci, which continued for some ages after, and from these he took Su
ssa Dometia, a considerable town about twenty-six miles east of Rome. The city of the Gabii gave him much more trouble, for having attempted with some loss, to besiege it, he was obliged to direct his efforts by stratagem▪ contrary to the usual practice of the Romans. He caused his son Sextus to counterfeit desertion, upon pretence of barbarous usage from his father, and to seek refuge among the inhabitants of the place. There, by artful complaints and studied lamentations, he so prevailed upon the pity of the people, as to be chosen their governor, and soon after general of their army. He at first, in every engagement, appeared successful, till, at length, finding himself entirely possessed of the confidence of the state, he sent a trusty messenger to his father for instructions. Tarquin made no other answer, than taking the messenger into the garden, and cutting down before him the tallest poppies. Sextus readily understood the meaning of this reply, and one by one, found means of destroying or removing the principal men of the city, still taking care to confiscate their effects among the people. The charms of this dividend kept the giddy populace blind to their approaching ruin, till they found themselves at last, without counsellors or head, and in the end, fell under the power of Tarquin, without even striking a blow. After this, he made a league with the Aequi, and renewed that with the Etrurians.
But while he was engaged in wars abroad, he took care not to suffer the people to continue in idleness at home. He undertook to build the capitol, the foundation of which had been laid in a former reign, and an extraordinary event contributed to hasten the execution of his design. A woman, in strange attire, made her appearance at Rome, and came to the king, offering to sell nine books, which she said were of her own composing. Not knowing the abilities of the seller, and that she was in fact one of the celebrated sybils, whose prophecies were never found to fail, Tarquin refused to buy them. Upon this she departed, and burning three of her books, again demanded the same price for the six remaining; being despised as an impostor, she again departed, and burning three more, returned with those remaining, still asking the same as at first. Tarquin surprized at the inconsistency of her behaviour, consulted the augurs, to advise him what to do. These much blamed him for not buying the nine, and commanded him to buy the three remaining, at whatsoever price she should demand. The woman, says the historian, after thus selling and delivering the three prophetic volumes, and advising him to have a special attention to what they contained, vanished from before him, and was never after seen. Upon this he chose proper persons to keep them, who, though but two at first, were afterwards encreased to fifteen, under the name of quindecemviri. They were put into a stone chest, and a vault in the newly-designed building, was thought the properest place to keep them in safety; so that the work went on with great vigour, and as omens and prodigies were frequent in this ignorant age, in digging the foundations, a man's head, named Tolus, was found, which, though he was many years dead, still bled afresh, as if he had been but newly slain. This gave the building the name of capitol (caput Toli.) It was two hundred feet long, two hundred high, and almost as many broad, dedicated to Jupiter in chief, but containing two temples more, under the same roof, dedicated to Juno and Minerva. A structure so magnificent, was in some measure an indication of the encrease of arts in Rome, not less than of the piety of the people.
However, the time now began to approach, in which the people were to be freed from a tyrant, who, day after day, made new victims among them. Having been now for four years together employed in building the capitol, they began at last to wish for something new to engage them, wherefore Tarquin, to satisfy their wishes, proclaimed war against the Rutuli, upon a frivolous pretence of their having entertained some malefactors whom he had banished, and invested their chief city Ardea, which lay about sixteen miles from Rome. While the army was encamped before this place, the king's son Sextus, with Collatinus, a noble Roman, and some others, sat in a tent drinking together: the discourse happening to turn upon the beauty and virtue of their wives, each man praising his own, Collatinus offered to decide the dispute, by putting it to an immediate trial, whose wife should be found possest of the greatest beauty and most sedulously employed, at that very hour. Being heated with wine, the proposal was relished by the whole company, and taking horse without delay, they posted to Rome, though the night was already pretty far advanced. Here they found Lucretia, the wife of Collatinus, not like the other women of the age, spending the time in ease and luxury, but spinning in the midst of her maids, and chearfully portioning out their tasks. Her modest beauty, and the easy reception she gave her husband and his friends, so charmed them all, that they unanimously gave her the preference, and Sextus was so much inflamed, that nothing but enjoyment could satisfy his passion.
He went therefore from the camp to visit her privately a few days after, and received the same kind reception which he had met with before. As his intentions were not suspected, Lucretia sate with him at supper, and ordered a chamber to be got ready for him in the house. Midnight was the time in which this ruffian thought it safest to put his designs in execution. Having found means to convey himself into her chamber, he approached her bed-side with a drawn sword, and rudely laying his hand upon her bosom, threatened her with instant death if she offered to resist his passion. Lucretia affrighted out of her sleep, and seeing death so near, was however, inexorable to his desire, till being told, that if she would not yield, he would first kill her, and then laying his own slave dead by her side, he would report, that he had killed them thus in the act of adultery. The terror of infamy atchieved what that of death could not obtain; she consented to his desire, and the next morning he returned to the camp, exulting in his brutal victory. In the mean time, Lucretia, detesting the light, and resolving not to pardon herself for the crime of another, sent for her husband Collatinus, and for Spurius her father, to come to her, as an indelible disgrace had befallen the family. These instantly obeyed the summons, bringing with them Valerius, a kinsman of her father's, and Junius Brutus, a reputed ideot, whose father Tarquin had murdered, and who had accidentally met the messenger by the way. Their arrival only served to encrease Lucretia's poignant anguish; they found her in a state of steadfast desperation, and vainly attempted to give her relief.
"No, (said she) never shall I find any thing worth living for in this life, after having lost my honour. You see, my Collatinus, a polluted wretch before you, one whose person has been the spoil of another, but whose affections were never estranged from you. Sextus, under the pretended veil of friendship, has this night forced from me that treasure, which death only can restore; but if you have the hearts of men, remember to avenge my cause, and let posterity know, that she who has lost her virtue, had only death for her best consolation."
So saying, she drew a poignard from beneath her robe, and instantly plunging it in her bosom, exspired without a groan. The whole company remained for some time fixed in sorrow, pity and indignation; Spurius and Collatinus at length gave a vent to their grief in tears, but Brutus drawing the poignard reeking from Lucretia's wound, and lifting it up towards Heaven,
"Be witness ye Gods, he cried, that from this moment I proclaim myself the avenger of the chaste Lucretia's cause: from this moment I profess myself the enemy of Tarquin, and his lustful house: from henceforth shall this life, while life continues, be employed in opposition to tyranny, and for the happiness and freedom of my much loved country."
A new amazement seized the hearers, to find him, whom they had heretofore considered as an ideot, now appearing in his real character, the friend of justice, and of Rome. He told them that tears and lamentations were unmanly, when vengeance called▪ so loud, and delivering the poignard to the rest, imposed the same oath upon them, which he himself had just taken.
Junius Brutus was the son of Marcus Junius, a noble Roman, who was married to the daughter of Tarquinius Priscus, and for that reason, through a motive of jealousy, was put to death by Tarquin the Proud. Junius Brutus, the son, had received an excellent education from his father, and had from nature, strong sense, and an inflexible attachment to virtue: but perceiving that Tarquin had privily murdered his father and his eldest brother, he counterfeited himself a fool, in order to escape the same danger, and thence obtained the surname of Brutus. Tarquin thinking his folly real, despised the man, and having possessed himself of his estate, kept him as an ideot in his house, merely with a view of making sport for his children. It happened in a time of threatened danger, that Brutus was sent with Tarquin's two sons, to consult the oracle, upon the methods expedient to avert the calamity. The sons were pleased with his company, and laughed to see him offer his staff at the shrine of Apollo, which however, was a much more valuable present to the god, than theirs, as it had been made hollow, and then filled with gold. The young men, after executing their father's commands, next enquired of the oracle, which of them should be king of Rome; to which it was answered, that he who should first kiss his mother, should gain the kingdom. In consequence of this, they both resolved to kiss their mother at the same time, and thus reign together. Brutus however who dived into the real meaning of the oracle, as soon as they were arrived in Italy, pretended accidentally to fall down, and kissing the earth, saluted her, which he considered as the general parent of all. From that time, he conceived hopes of being the deliverer of his country, and chacing the tyrant Tarquin and his whole family from Rome.
Brutus having now the fairest opportunity of ridding his country of a tyrant, that had long harrassed it with impunity, procured with all expedition the gates of the city to be shut, till such time as the people would be assembled, and a public decree for Tarquin's banishment should be attempted. Accordingly, he caused Lucretia's dead body to be brought out to view, and exposed in the public forum, while the citizens, who ran tumultuously from old quarters to see it, were at first impressed with pity, which soon after changed into rage and ungovernable fury: this was the disposition which he had so often longed for in vain, and now therefore enflaming their ardour by a display of the horrid transaction, and still more by the glorious hopes of future freedom, he obtained a decree of the senate, that Tarquin and his family should be for ever banished from Rome, and that it should be capital for any to plead for, or attempt his future return. Tarquin, in the mean time, having heard of these commotions at the army, flew with the utmost expedition to Rome, in hopes to quell and punish the delinquents; but finding the gates shut, and the walls full of armed men, he prepared to return, fill'd with indignation, to the camp: but Brutus had taken care here also to prevent him, for expeditiously getting to the army by another road, he acquainted the soldiers with what had been done in the city, how Lucretia was abused and fallen, and how the senate and people had espoused her quarrel. The same sentiments of humanity which had impelled the citizens, touched the army also. They agreed to act with their friends at home, and when Tarquin came back, they refused to admit him. Thus this monarch, who had now reigned twenty-five years, being expelled his kingdom, went to take refuge with his family at Cira, a little city of Etruria. In the mean time, the Roman army made a truce with the enemy, and Brutus was proclaimed, deliverer of the people.
Thus ended with Tarquin the regal state of Rome, after it had continued two hundred and forty-five years, and still with a gradual, tho' slow increase. Although, at the time of Tarquin's expulsion, the territory of the Romans was not above forty miles long, and thirty broad, yet their government was possessed of that vigour, which bodies of a slow growth are generally found to enjoy; nor were they at any time masters of greater territory, than they had forces to keep in obedience. Few histories can shew a succession of kings, replete with more virtue and moderation, than those who first governed in Rome: it was from their wise institutions, that the people seemed to acquire all that courage, that piety, and that patriotism, which afterwards operated in conquering mankind. Their subjects might have been possessed of all the rustic fierceness of the times, indeed, but it must have been owing to the monarchs only, that their very enemies reaped the benefit of their victories; it must have been the general's virtue alone that could protect those whom the soldiers valour had subdued. The Grecian legislators had the Egyptians to imitate, but the Romans were placed in the midst of nations far more barbarous than themselves, and all the wisdom of their monarchs was chiefly of their own formation. Hitherto however, we only see the genius of the nation making faint struggles to get free from her native ferocity, obstructed by custom at home, and barbarous example abroad; yet still upon particular occasions, exerting a nobleness of mind, still aiming at imagined virtue, and majestic, even in infancy.
CHAP. IX. From the banishment of Tarquin to the appointment of the first dictator.
U. C.
245
THE regal power being overthrown, a form of government, nominally republican, was substituted in its room. The senate however, reserved by far the greatest share of the authority to themselves, and decorated their own body with all the spoils of deposed monarchy. The centuries of the people chose from among the senators, instead of a king, two annual magistrates, whom they called consuls, with power equal to that of the regal, and with the same privileges, and the same ensigns of authority. Though the liberty of the people was but very little encreased by this institution, yet to it Rome afterwards, in a great measure, owed its unequalled grandeur. In the life of a king, there are many periods of indolence and of passion, that serve to divert him from the public good; but in a commonwealth, governed by magistrates annually chosen, each has no time to lose, and to attain his ambition, all his exertions must be within the year. Hence it is, that those magistrates were ever persuading to some new war, and pointing out fresh enemies every day. The people thus kept in continual alarms, attained a more perfect knowlede of the military arts, and were better enabled to adopt the improvements of the various nations they were led to engage.
Brutus, the deliverer of his country, and Collatinus, the husband of Lucretia, were chosen first consuls in Rome. They immediately revived the laws for assembling the people, which had been discontinued during the late tyrant's reign; but that their newly acquired liberty should be prevented from degenerating into licentiousness, several officers relative to the priesthood were appointed, and new sacrifices ordained.
This new republick however, which seemed so grateful to the people, had like to have been destroyed in its very commencement. A party was formed in Rome in favour of Tarquin. Some young men of the principal families in the state, who had been educated about the king, and had shared in all the luxu
es and pleasures of the court, undertook to reestablish monarchy. They were disgusted with the gloomy austerity of a republican fo
of government, in which the laws, inflexible and severe, made no distinctions of birth, or fortune. This party secretly encreased every day, and what may create our surprize, the sons of Brutus himself, and the Aquilii, the nephews of Collatinus, were among the number. Tarquin, who was informed of these intrigues in his favour, was resolved to advance them by every art in his power, and accordingly sent ambassadors from Etruria to Rome, under a pretence of reclaiming the crown, and demanding the effects which he had left behind him, but in reality, with a design to give spirit to his faction, and to draw over to it as many as he could. They accordingly went on with success, holding their private meetings at the house of one of the conspirators, and already the restoration of the king, and the death of the consuls was resolved upon. However, their treason could not be long concealed▪ a slave who had accidentally hid himself in the room where the conspirators used to assemble, overheard their conversation, and laid open their whole design to the consuls, who gave orders to have the conspirators secured and brought before them, among whom were the sons of Brutus. Few situations could have been more terribly affecting than this of a father, placed as a judge upon the life and death of his own children; impelled by justice to condemn, and by nature to spare them. The young men accused, pleaded nothing for themselves, but with conscious guilt, awaited their sentence in silence and agony. The other judges who were present, felt all the pangs of nature; Collatinus wept, and Valerius could not repress the sentiments of pity. Brutus alone seemed to have lost all the softness of humanity, and with a stern countenance, and a tone of voice that marked his gloomy resolution, demanded of his sons, if they could make any defence to the crimes with which they had been charged. This demand he made three several times, and having received no answer, he at length, turned himself to the executioner, now, cried he, it is your part to perform the rest: thus saying, he again resumed his seat, with an air of determined majesty; nor could all the sentiments of paternal pity, nor all the imploring looks of the people, nor yet the complaints of the young men, who were preparing for execution, al
er the tenor of his resolution. The executioners having stripped them naked, and then whipped them with
ils, presently after beheaded them; Brutus all the time beholding the cruel spectacle with a steady look and unaltered countenance, while the multitude gazed on with all the sensations of pity, terror and admiration.
The constancy of Brutus, during the
ution of his two sons, served greatly to encrease his authority in Rome; but the lenity of his colleague Collatinus, was considered in a very different light: his having attempted to save the Vitellii, his nephews, rendered him suspected to the citizens; he was accordingly deposed from the consulship, and banished Ro
▪ and Valerius, afterwards surnamed Publicola from his regard to the people, was elected consul in his room.
All Tarquin's hopes of an insurrection in the city in his favour being thus overthrown, he was now resolved to force himself upon his former throne by foreign assistance, and to that end prevailed upon the Veians to assist him, and with a considerable army advanced towards Rome.
U. C.
246
The consuls were not remiss in preparations to oppose him. Valerius commanding the foot, and Brutus being appointed to head the cavalry, went out to meet him on the Roman borders. Aruns the son of Tarquin, who commanded the cavalry for his father, seeing Brutus at a distance, was resolved, by one great attempt, to decide the fate of the day, before the engaging of the armies, wherefore spurring on his horse, he made toward him with ungovernable fury. Brutus, who perceived his approach, singled out from the ranks to meet him, and and both met with such rage, that eager only to assail, and thoughtless of defending, they both fell dead upon the field together. A bloody battle ensued, with equal slaughter on both sides; but the Romans remaining in possession of the field of battle, claimed the victory, in consequence of which, Valerius returned in triumph to Rome.
Brutus being thus removed without having compleated his year, Valerius continued for some time to enjoy the dignity without a colleague, which excited the jealousies of the people, who were apprehensive that he had thoughts of aspiring to the crown. A palace which he had built with some magnificence, upon an eminence, augmented these suspicions, and it was reported, that he had intentions of converting it into a fortress, in order to awe the city. Valerius however, soon quieted their fears, by ordering his palace to be pulled down, and to shew the rectitude of his intentions, made several laws, abridging the power of the senate, and extending that of the people. By one, he allowed an appeal from the consuls to the people; by another, he made it death for any man to assume the office of magistrate without the people's consent; a third gave power to any man to kill the person, unheard, who affected the supreme power, if he could demonstrate the crime. He also appointed questors, or treasurers, who were to have the management of the government's money, and the care of accommodating ambassadors. Still more to ingratiate himself with the public, he ordered the rods which the lictors carried, to be separated from the axes, intimating thereby, that the power of capitally punishing lay no longer in the consuls, but the people. Having thus satisfied their scruples, he chose Lucretius, the father of Lucretia, for his colleague in the consulship. Dying a short time after, he was succeeded by Horatius, and the time of annual election coming on soon after, Valerius was chosen a second time, and with him Lucretius, who numbered the people. They were found to amount to an hundred and thirty thousand, besides widows and orphans.
In the mean time, Tarquin, no way intimidated by his misfortunes, still formed alliances to assist him in regaining the crown, and prevailed upon Porsenna, one of the kings of Etruria, to espouse his cause, and in person undertake his quarrel. This prince, equally noted for courage and conduct, marched directly to Rome with a numerous army, and laid siege to the city, while the terror of his name and his arms fill'd all ranks of people with dismay. The senate, in this exigence, did all that prudence could suggest, both to quiet the fears, and satisfy the wants of the people. They ordered, that the populace should pay no taxes to the state, during the continuance of the war, alledging, that they did enough in educating children to defend it. Still more, they purchased corn over various parts of Campania, and had it brought to Rome, to be distributed at a low price to the people. These indulgences linked the orders of the state so firmly together, that every citizen seemed resolved to defend his country to the last, and save Rome, or expire in its ruins. The siege however was carried on with vigour: a furious attack was made upon the place: the two consuls opposed in vain, and were carried off wounded from the field; while the Romans flying in great consternation, were pursued by the enemy to the bridge, over which, both victors and vanquished were about to enter the city in the confusion. All now appeared lost and over, when Horatius Cocles, who had been placed there as centinel to defend it, opposed himself to the torrent of the enemy, and assisted only by two more, for some time sustained the whole fury of the assault, till the bridge was broken down behind him; when, plunging with his arms into the torrent of the Tyber, he swam back victorious to his fellowsoldiers.
Still however, Porsenna was determined upon taking the city, and though five hundred of his men were slain in a sally of the Romans, he reduced it to the greatest straights, and turning the siege into a blockade, resolved to take it by famine. The distress of the besieged soon began to be insufferable, and all things seemed to threaten a speedy surrender, when another act of fierce bravery, still superior to that which had saved the city before, again procured its safety and freedom.
Mutius, a youth of undaunted bravery, was resolved to rid his country of an enemy, that so sorely continued to oppress it; and for this purpose, disguised in the habit of an Etrurian peasant, entered the camp of the enemy, resolved to die or to kill the king. With this resolution he made up to the place where Porsenna was paying his troops, with a secretary by his side; but mistaking the latter for the king, he stabbed him to the heart, and was immediately apprehended, and brought back to the royal presence. Upon Porsenna's demanding who he was, and the cause of so heinous an action, Mutius, without reserve, informed him of his country and his design, and at the same time thrusting his right hand into a fire that burnt upon an altar before him,
"You see," cried he, "how little I regard the severest punishment your cruelty can inflict upon me. A Roman knows not only how to act, but to suffer: I am not the only person you have to fear, three hundred of the Roman youth, like me, have conspired your destruction, therefore prepare for their attempts."
Porsenna amazed at so much intrepidity, had too noble a mind not to acknowledge merit though found in an enemy, he therefore ordered him to be safely conducted back to Rome, and offered the besieged conditions of peace. These were readily accepted on their side, being neither hard nor disgraceful, except that twenty hostages were demanded, ten young men, and as many virgins of the best families in Rome. But even in this instance also, as if the gentler sex were resolved to be sharers in the desperate valour of the times, Clelia, one of the hostages escaping from her guards, and pointing out the way to the rest of her female companions, swam over the Tyber on horseback, amidst showers of darts from the enemy, and presented herself to the consul. This magistrate however, fearing the consequences of detaining her, had her sent back; upon which, Porsenna, not to be out-done in generosity, not only gave her liberty, but permitted her to chuse such of the hostages, of the opposite sex, as she should think fit to attend her. On her part, she, with all the modesty of a Roman virgin, chose only such as were under fourteen, alledging, that their tender age was least capable of sustaining the rigours of slavery.
Little remarkable happened after this for about five years, if we except two or three victories obtained over the Sabines, who were obliged to purchase a peace, and over whom the consuls obtained two triumphs, and the first ovation that had been seen in Rome, which differed from a triumph in these respects, that in an ovation, the general entered the city on foot, and not as in the other case in a chariot; that he was met only by the knights and patricians, and not by the senators in their robes; that his dress was less magnificent, and that his crown, instead of being of lawrel, was made only of myrtle. Posthumius, who overcame the Sabines, was the first who was decreed this lesser kind of triumph, because his success was not obtained but at the expence of a former defeat. Some other victories followed, but we will not dilate upon these small advantages, which though they contributed to extend the empire, are at present attended neither with curiosity nor instruction.
Tarquin, though often disappointed, was still unsubdued and unshaken. By means of his son-in-law Manilius, he stirred up the Latins to espouse his interest, and took the most convenient opportunity, when the plebeians and senators were divided amongst each other, to make head against Rome. After having united twenty-four towns in his confedracy abroad, he, by large bribes, found means to win over a very powerful party of the poorer sort of citizens from their new government, who also had many real causes of discontent to disgust them, and to which they soon after gave vent,
The Romans, under their kings, had only
U. C.
255
two ways of subsisting, by agriculture and by plunder; they lived either by labouring their own lands, or by reaping the harvests which had been sown by their enemies. Soon however, after the extinction of royalty, the senators and patricians, who were in effect sovereigns of the country, appropriated to themselves the greatest part of the lands which were the rights of conquest, and insensibly extended their own possessions at the expence of the public. In vain the soldier fought to enlarge the limits of the dominions of Rome, the great came in and shared the fruit of his labour, tho' they had no participation in the danger. The poverty of the soldier by these means, obliged him to borrow money upon usury, and as that was exorbitant, it only served to encrease his wretchedness. The laws also of Rome permitted the creditor to seize the person of the insolvent debtor, and to employ him as a slave, till the debt was paid: this complication of misery soon excited the murmurs of the poor, till from entreaties to their masters, they proceeded to menaces. The attempt of Tarquin to regain the crown, seemed to them a favourable conjuncture to regain those rights, of which they had been insensibly deprived. When the consuls therefore came to levy men in order to oppose him, to their great amazement, all the poor, and all who were loaded with debt, refused to enlist, declaring that those who enjoyed the advantages of peace, might undergo the fatigues of war, but that for their part, they were wearied with exposing their lives for nothing, or for what was still worse, for masters who undervalued their labours, and only rioted upon their distress. They acknowledged no city nor country, they said, which would not give them protection, and by leaving Rome, they only left behind them their miseries, their oppressors and their debts. They therefore insisted, that their debts should be cancelled by a decree of the senate, as the only means of inducing them to the field. At first the senate endeavoured to appease the populace by gentle methods, but finding these unsuccessful, they entered into a serious consideration upon so important an affair. There were some for a free remission of all debts, as the safest and securest method at that juncture. Others urged the dangerous consequences of this condescension, advising, that only such should be enlisted, as thought fit to give in their names, and that the rest should be treated with contempt. At length they came to a resolution to put off the impending evil by delay, and to publish an order, that no debtor should be molested during the continuance of the war. The people however, to whom the senate offered this suspension as a favour, refused it with acrimony and contempt. They knew that this was only putting off that grievance, which would soon fall upon them with encreased severity; they knew that the approach of the enemy had extorted from the senate what they would resume when their terrors should be over, and therefore they still persisted in their demands. The number of the malecontents encreased every hour, and many of the people who were neither poor nor involved in debt, entered into and shared their griefs, either from a consciousness of the rectitude of their demands, or from the natural dislike which all men have to their superiors. In this exigence therefore, the senate, who saw the commonwealth upon the brink of ruin, had recourse to an expedient, which though successful for the present, in a course of ages was fatal to the republick of Rome. The consuls finding their authority insufficient, offered the people to elect a temporary magistrate, who should have absolute power, not only over all ranks of state, but even over the laws themselves. To this, the plebeians, who held the senate in abhorrence, readily consented, willing to give up their own power, for the sake of abridging that of their superiors. In consequence of this, Largius was created the first Dictator of Rome, for so was this high office called, being nominated to it by his colleague in the consulship. Thus the people who could not bear to hear the name of king even mentioned, readily submitted to a magistrate possessed of much greater power: so much do the names of things mislead us, and so little is any form of government irksome to people when it coincides with their prejudices. This was the first intermission of the consular power about ten years after it had been established.
CHAP. X. From the creation of the first dictator, to the election of the tribunes of the people.
LARGIUS being now created dictator, entered
U. C.
255
upon his office surrounded with his lictors and all the ensigns of ancient royalty, and seated upon a throne in the midst of the people, ordered the levies to be made, in the manner of the kings of Rome. The populace looked with terror upon a magistrate whom they had invested with uncontroulable power, and peaceably went each to range himself under his respective standard. The Latins being informed of this change in the government of the city, began to lose all the expectations which they had conceived from its divisions, they accordingly thought proper to listen to an accommodation, which was proposed on the side of Rome, and a truce was agreed upon between them for a year. Largius, who had been sent to oppose the enemy, returned with his army to Rome, and before his six months were out, (the time limited for this office) he laid down the dictatorship, with the reputation of having exercised it with blameless lenity.
It seems however, that the year ensuing there was occasion for another dictator, as we find Posthumius invested with that office, and leading out the Romans to prosecute the war with the Latins, upon expiration of the truce between them. We are told, that coming up with them near the lake Regillus, he gave them a complete overthrow, though they were almost double his number, and that scarce a fourth of their army escaped alive from the field. It would be unimproving however and tedious to give the particulars of the engagements of this warlike people, in the infancy of their empire, while yet they seem but the tumultuary meetings of brave but obstinate men, whose valour alone, rather than conduct, decided the fortune of the day. In this battle, we are particularly told, that the dictator cast
e of the ensigns among the enemy, to incite his men to a bold attempt for the recovery: we are told also, that the bridles were ordered to be taken off the horses, that they might charge with greater fury. Generals who could give such directions might have been bold men, but very bad commanders. Nevertheless, they fought against an enemy more ignorant than themselves, so that the Latins ac
nowledging their superiority, implored a truce once more, and the dictator, after a triumph, laid down his authority.
The soldiers having now once more returned from the field in triumph, had some reason to expect a remission of their debts, and to enjoy that safety for themselves, which they had procured for the public. However, contrary to their hopes, the courts of justice were opened against them, and the prosecution of creditors revived with more than former acrimony. This began to excite fresh murmurs, and the senate, who were sensible of them, in order to be prepared, chose Appius Claudius, a man of austere manners, a strict observer of the laws, and of unshaken intrepidity, for one of the consuls the year ensuing: but, at the same time, to temper his severity, they gave him for a colleague, Servilius, a man of an humane and gentle disposition, and as much loved by the populace, as Appius was hateful to them. When the complaints of the people therefore came to be deliberated upon, these two magistrates, as it may be supposed, were entirely of opposite opinions. Servilius commiserating the distresses of the poor, was for abolishing all debts, or at least for diminishing the interest upon them. Appius, on the other hand, with his natural severity, insisted that the laws of his country should be inviolably observed, and that lightening the load from those who owed money, was but throwing it upon those to whom it was due. That it would be encouraging the extravagant and the idle, at the expence of the industrious and the frugal, and that every new compliance from the senate, would but encrease the insolent demands of the people.
The populace being apprized of the different opinions of their consuls concerning their complaints, loaded Servilius with every mark of gratitude, while they every where pursued Appius with threats and imprecations. They now therefore, began to assemble afresh, to hold secret cabals by night, and to meditate some new revolution, when an unlooked for spectacle of distress rouzed all their passions, and at once fanned their kindling resentment into flame.
A Roman soldier, who seemed in age, came to take refuge in the midst of the people, loaden with chains, yet shewing in his air the marks of better days: he was covered with rags, his face was pale and wasted with famine, his beard, which was long and neglected, and his hair in wild disorder, rendered his appearance still more ghastly. He was known however, to have once performed gallant services in the field; he shewed the scars which he had received in battle, and the marks of recent stripes which still continued bleeding. The compassion of the multitude was excited at this spectacle, but much more when he told them his story. Having borne arms in the last war against the Sabines, his little patrimony was not only neglected, but the enemy had plundered his substance, and set his house on fire. He was thus forced for subsistence to contract debts, and then obliged to sell his inheritance to discharge them; but a part still remaining unpaid, his unfeeling creditor had dragged him to prison, where he was not only loaded with chains, but torn with the whips of the executioner, who was ordered to torment him. This account, and his wounds which were still fresh, produced an instantaneous uproar among the people: they flew to take revenge not only on the delinquent, but on the general body of their oppressors. Appius had the fortune to procure safety by flight. Servilius laying aside the marks of consular power, threw himself into the midst of the tumult, entreated, flattered, commanded them to patience: engaged to have their wrongs redressed by the senate; promissed that he himself would warmly support their cause, and in the mean time, to convince them of his good intentions, made proclamation, that no citizen should be arrested for debt, until the senate should issue further directions.
The remonstrances of Servilius, for this time, served in some measure to appease their murmurs, and the senate was going to begin their deliberations, when word was brought, that an army of Volscians was marching directly towards Rome. This was an event which the people had wished with the most ardent expectation, and they now resolved to let the nobles see, how little the power of the rich avails, when unsupported by the strength of the multitude. Accordingly, when the levy came to be made for soldiers, they unanimously refused to enlist, while those who had been imprisoned for debt, shewing their chains, asked with an insulting smile, whether these were the weapons with which they were to face the enemy.
Rome, in this state of anarchy within, and of threatened invasion from without, was upon the brink of ruin, when Servilius, who, as consul, was to command the army, once more renewed his entreaties with the people, not to desert him in this exigence. To sooth them still more, he issued a new edict, that no citizen should be imprisoned during the continuance of the war, and assured them, that upon their return, they should have plenary redress. By these promises, as well as by the affection which the people had to his person, he once more prevailed. The citizens came in crowds to enrol themselves under his command; he led them to meet the enemy, and gained a compleat victory. But of all those who shewed their courage in the engagement, the debtors and former malecontents were the most conspicuous. Servilius, to recompence their bravery, gave them the plunder of the enemies camp, without reserving, as was usual, any part of it to the treasury; and this perhaps was the cause which induced the senate upon his return to refuse him the honours of a triumph.
No sooner were the terrors of the enemy removed, but the former cruelties began afresh. Appius, still fierce and uncomplying, again authorized creditors to renew their rights, and debtors were dragged to prison, and insulted as before. In vain did they implore the assistance of Servilius, who, gentle and wavering, deputed too much of his power to Appius. In vain did they claim the promises made them by the senate, that body, deaf to their cries, saw debtors pursued even into the Forum by their merciless masters, and prevented only by the multitude from being haled to prison. The approach of an enemy, still more numerous than that which had been lately conquered, retarded the acrimony of their vengeance. The Sabines, the Equi, and the Volscians, as if willing to second the views of the people, again made a fierce irruption, while the citizens refused to touch a weapon, till their grievances were removed.
Things being in this dangerous situation, the senate were obliged to have recourse to the old method of redress, by creating a dictator. Appius, who advised the measure, hoped that he himself should have been chosen, but the senate, sensible that so much power in the hands of on
so violent in the use of that which he possessed, would be dangerous, chose Marius Valerius, an ancient senator, one mild, merciful, much loved by the people, and descended from the great deliverer, whose name he bore. Valerius, who secretly inclined to the plebeian party, chose Quintus, the brother of their great idol, Servilius, for his master of the horse, and assembling the orders, assured them, that if they would follow him freely, their grievances should not only be redressed, but their fortunes advanced by the spoils of the enemy. He in the mean time freed them from any immediate prosecutions from their creditors, and commanded them to follow him to the field. There was something so absolute in the office of a dictator, and it was so much considered by the people, that they not only dreaded its resentment, but seemed to think its promises binding. They therefore enrolled themselves at his order, and marching against the enemy, quickly reduced them to obedience, such lands as had been taken from them being divided among the soldiers.
Upon his return, the dictator requested the senate to perform what he had so solemnly pledged his word to obtain; but Appius, still obstinate, refused to comply, reproaching him with a mean condescension to the multitude, and bringing over the majority of the senate to his opinion. Valerius therefore, finding he was unable to contend with so powerful a body, laid down his office, alledging that it was time for an old man of seventy, as he was, to think rather of ease than opposition.
The people were now inflamed beyond all bearing; they entered into private consultations, and formed a plan of separating themselves from masters, whose promises were as contemptible, as their tyranny dreadful. The most violent measures are to the multitude always the most pleasing, and some had even the boldness to talk of killing such as were obnoxious. The senate and the consuls well knowing the effects of their fury when they should be disbanded, resolved still to keep them in the field, under pretence, that the enemy was yet unsubdued, and preparing for new invasions. In this exigence the soldiers were at a loss how to act; the military oath which they had taken upon listing, forbade their laying down their arms or forsaking their standards, and yet their recent injuries restrained them from taking the field. They steered between both extremes; they resolved to quit a city which gave them no shelter, and to form a new establishment without its limits. They therefore removed their ensigns, changed their commanders, and under the conduct of a plebeian named Sicinius Bellutus, they retired to a mountain, from thence called the Mons Sacer, on the banks of the river Anio, within about three miles from Rome.
Upon news of this defection, the city was filled with tumult and consternation; those who wished well to the army made all the attempts they could to scale the walls in order to join it, for the gates were shut by the senate's direction. The fathers, who had sons among the mutineers, reproached their degeneracy, wives lamented the absence of their husbands, and all apprehended a civil war. The senate was not less agitated than the rest: some were for violent measures and repelling force by force, others were of opinion, that gentler arts were to be used, and that even a victory over such enemies, would be worse than a defeat. At length therefore, it was resolved to send a messenger, entreating the army to return home and declare their grievances, promising at the same time an oblivion of all that had passed. This message, which in fact was premature to be attended with any effect, was treated by the army with disdain; so that the senate were now to begin afresh to consider of the proper steps to be taken, and whether force or condescension was the wisest course to pursue.
Accordingly, after chusing new consuls (tho' not without difficulty, as none at first would offer for the office) they entered upon the deliberation, with an earnestness equal to the importance of the cause. Menenius Agrippa, one of the wisest and best of the senators, was of opinion, that the people were to be complied with; that the Roman Dominions could neither be extended or preserved without them. The late dictator Valerius seconded his opinion, with a warmth unusual to one of his advanced age. He upbraided the Senate with their duplicity, and urged the necessity of letting the people into a share of those advantages which the rich seemed willing to engross. Appius on the other hand, still adhering to his principles, declaimed with great force against making the smallest concessions to the multitude. He observed that if they granted to the people when enemies, what they had refused them when friends, it would be an argument of their fears and not their justice. That the young Patricians and their clients were still able to defend the city, even though its ungrateful inhabitants should think fit to desert it: that the multitude never knows where to stop in its demands, and that every concession would be only productive of fresh claims and louder importunities. The body of the senators, to whom chiefly the people were debtors, only wanted the speciousness of such arguments to cover their avarice; those of the younger sort also who were flattered by the orator, applauded his speech with indecent zeal. The consuls therefore, who notwithstanding this shew of a debate, saw the necessity there was of complying with the people; in order to prevent such violent measures as the senate were hastening into, for that day broke up the assembly, at the same time intimating to the younger part of the senators, that if they did not behave with more moderation for the future, a law should be preferred, preventing all, under a certain age, from being admitted into the senate for the future.
This threat did not want its effect at their next meeting, where, notwithstanding the steadfast opposition of Appius, and the terrible blow that was about to be given to the fortunes of many of the members, it was resolved to enter into a treaty with the people, and to make them such offers as should induce them to return. Ten commissioners were accordingly deputed, at the head of whom were Largius and Valerius, who had been dictators, and Menenius Agrippa, equally loved by the senate and the people. The dignity and the popularity of these ambassadors procured them a very respectable reception among the soldiers, and a long conference began between them; Largius and Valerius employed all their oratory on the one hand, while Sicinius and Lucius Junius, who were the spokesmen of the soldiery, aggravated their distresses, with all that male-eloquence which is the child of nature. The conference had now continued for a long time, when Menenius Agrippa, who had been originally a plebeian himself, a shrewd man, and who consequently knew what kind of eloquence was most likely to please the people, addressed them with that celebrated fable, which is so finely told us by Livy.
"In times of old, when every part of the body could think for itself, and each had a separate will of its own, they all, with common consent, resolved to revolt against the belly: they knew no reason, they said, why they should toil from morning till night in its service, while the belly, in the mean time, lay at its ease in the midst of them all, and indolently grew fat upon their labours: accordingly, one and all, they agreed to befriend it no more. The feet vowed they would carry it no longer, the hands vowed they would feed it no longer, and the teeth averred they would not chew a morsel of meat, though it were placed between them. Thus resolved, they all, for some time, shewed their spirit, and kept their word; but soon they found, that instead of mortifying the belly by these means, they only undid themselves; they languished for a while, and perceived, when too late, that it was owing to the belly, that they had strength to work or courage to mutiny."
This fable, the application of which is obvious, had an instantaneous effect upon the people. They unanimously cried out, that Agrippa should lead them back to Rome, and were making preparations to follow him, when Junius Brutus, before-mentioned, with-held them, alledging, that though they were gratefully to acknowledge the kind offers of the senate, yet they had no safe-guard for the future against their resentment; that therefore it was necessary for the security of the people, to have certain officers created annually from among themselves, who should have power to give such of them as should be injured, redress, and plead the cause of the community.
The people, who are ever of opinion with the last speaker, highly applauded this proposal, which however the commissioners had not power to comply with: they therefore sent to Rome to take the instructions of the senate, who, worried with divisions among themselves, and harrassed by complaints from without, were resolved to have peace, at whatsoever price it should be obtained; accordingly, as if with one voice, they consented to the creation of their new officers, who were called
Tribunes of the People,
Appius alone protesting with vehemence against the measure.
The tribunes of the people were at first five in number, though afterwards their body was encreased by five more. They were always annually elected by the people, and almost always from their body. They had the power of annulling all such decrees of the senate, as they considered to lean upon the people; and to shew their readiness to protect the meanest, their doors stood open night and day, to receive their complaints. They at first had their seats placed before the doors of the senate-house, and being called in they were to examine every decree, annulling it by the word
veto, I forbid it,
or confirming it by signing the letter
T,
which gave it its validity. Their persons were to be sacred, and though they were mark'd out by none of the ensigns of office, such as the curule chair, or the lictors which attended upon other magistrates, yet their power was greatly superior, having a negative vote upon all decrees of the senate. They were however to have no authority without the walls of the city, and it was unlawful for them to be absent from it a day; but what still most diminished their authority was, that any one of their number could put a negative upon the measures of the rest, and this was afterwards found the most artful method of opposing them, for one gained over to the senate, rendered the attempts of the rest abortive. This new office therefore being thus instituted, Sicinius Bellutus, Lucius Junius, Caius Licinius, Albinus, and Icilius Ruga were the first tribunes that were chosen by the suffrages of the people. The senate also made an edict confirming the abolition of debts, and now all things being adjusted both on the one side and the other, the people, after having sacrificed to the Gods of the mountain, returned back once more in triumph to Rome.
CHAP. XI. From the creation of the tribunes to the appointment of the decemviri.
U. C.
260
WE have hitherto seen the people struggling against the exorbitant power of the senate, but we now begin a period, in which the senate are struggling against the encreasing power of the people; a period, in which the latter beginning to feel theit own force, and being put into motion, bear all down before them with irresistible violence. The first advantage the tribunes obtained, was a permission to chuse from among the people, two annual officers as assistants in the fatigues of their duty. These were caled aediles, as a part of their business consisted in taking care of the public buildings, aqueducts and sewers; and likewise in determining some causes, that had hitherto been determinable by the consuls only. They were to remark those who held more land than the laws allowed them; to curb all public immoralities, and abolish nuisances; to provide corn and oil in times of famine, and to prevent any monopolies that might be made by the purchasers of these commodities. The people having obtained these privileges, and all their clamours being appeased, now marched against the Vosci and Antiates, took Corioli, one of their chief towns, and soon after overthrew the enemy with great slaughter. In this battle Martius, after surnamed Coriolanus, particularly distinguished himself.
The people being thus rendered more turbulent by the condescension of the senate, and by a triumph over the enemy, had soon after fresh opportunity to shew their aptitude to clamour. During the late separation, all tillage had been entirely neglected, and a famine was the consequence the ensuing season. The senate did all that lay in their power to remedy the distress, but the people pinched with want, and willing to throw the blame on any but themselves, ascribed the whole of their distress, to the avarice of the patricians, who having purchased up all the corn, as was alledged, intended to indemnify themselves for the abolition of debts, by selling it out at great advantage; but this was not all they were charged with. The senate, in order to lessen the number of citizens in this time of famine, had sent many of them to Velitra, a city of the Volscians, that had lately been much depopulated by a plague. This excited an universal clamour among the people, which the tribunes took care to encrease. This they said was only an artful method of getting rid of such citizens as were obnoxious to the nobles; it was little else than banishing the bravest men of the state without an offence, and thus by weakening the strength of the people, to encrease their own. These reports being industriously propagated, an assembly was called, in which the consuls and the tribunes, by turns, harangued the people. A contest managed with so much impetuosity on both sides, every moment grew warmer, the consuls insisted, that the tribunes had no right to address the assembly; the tribunes, on the other hand asserted, that their office was sacred, and that they ought to suffer no interruption in their duty. In this the people unanimously concurred, for whatever their leaders thought fit to propose, they were ready to ratify; a law therefore was made, that no man should dare to interrupt the tribunes while they spoke to the people, a law which greatly encreased their power, as now, from taking the assembly's instructions, they were authorized to direct them.
The city, after this enjoyed a transient calm, some of the people retired to their houses to support famine with patience and resignation, while others made incursions upon the enemy, and returned with the spoil. But abundance, soon after, renewed in them that turbulence, which the continuance of the famine had appeased, but not removed. A large fleet of ships laden with corn from Sicily (a great part of which was a present from Gelon, the king of that country, to the Romans, and the rest purchased by the senate with the public money) raised their spirits once more, and enflamed their eagerness for dissension. When it came to be debated in the senate, in what manner this large supply should be distributed, violent divisions arose. Some were for letting the poorer sort have a sufficient quantity for nothing, others were for selling it at a low price, and thus reimburse the treasury; but when it came to the turn of Coriolanus to speak, he insisted, that no part of it should be distributed, until the late invasions which the people had made upon the rights of the senate should be restored, and until the commonwealth was reduced to its former regularity.
"Why, cried he, do we bear to see the state divided between two powers, whose dissensions only serve to harrass it the more? Can we tamely bear to see tribunes give laws in Rome, and rule with uncontroled power, when we could not stoop to kings? If the factious and turbulent are unwilling to live at Rome, let them retire once more to their mountain; it is better not to govern, if we must share our command with the dregs of the people."
A speech so inflammatory, and a measure so violent, rekindled all the flames of dissension. The multitude, in the violence of their resentment, would have fallen upon the senate itself, but the tribunes restrained their fury, and only pointed it upon Coriolanus, whom they devoted to destruction. Coriolanus however, still remained unshaken, nature had made him bold, frugal, and inflexible, and to these he added the acquired virtues of great respect for the laws, great knowledge of war, and an immoderate regard for his country, or rather that part of it whose quarrel he espoused. He accordingly treated the summons of the tribunes, to appear before them, with contempt. They therefore next sent their aediles to apprehend and bring him before the people; but a party of the young patricians gathered round their favourite, repulsed the aediles, and having beaten, drove them away. This was a signal for universal uproar, the tumult encreased from every quarter, and a civil war threatened to ensue, had not the consuls promised the people the most ample redress. The tribunes insisted, that he should be thrown headlong from the Tarpeian Rock, as a rebel and a contemner of the sacred authority of the Roman people, and and condemned him, even without demanding the suffrages of the people. They were going once more to lay hold on his person, but the patricians again rescued him. A conduct so resolute on one side, and so assuming on the other, in some measure put the populace in suspense; they were afraid to assist the tribunes against those who had been their generals and captains, and gazed upon the contest with trembling irresolution. Their backwardness therefore, to lend assistance, began to raise suspicions in the tribunes, that they had proceeded with too much violence; they, in consequence, demanded to bring his trial before the assembly of the people, and that his case should be argued before that authority, from which there lay no appeal. The patricians, who, though conscious of the innocence of Coriolanus, were yet willing to give peace to the city, consented, and a day was appointed for making his defence. Coriolanus demanded of the tribunes, what they intended to charge him with; to which they replied, that they intended to accuse him of aiming at sovereignty and tyranny, whereupon he chearfully put himself upon trial, conscious of his innocence of the charge.
When the appointed day was come, all persons were filled with the greatest expectation, and a vast concourse from the adjacent country assembled and filled up the Forum. The tribunes, in the mean time, divided the people by tribes, separating them with cords from each other, and ordering that they should give their votes separately, and not by centuries, as since the time of Hostilius had always been the custom. This, as we have remarked before, was depriving the patricians of all their influence, since the numbers of the populace were sure to prevail; however, the senate, unwilling to make the cause of Coriolanus their own, at last consented to this stretch of power in the plebeian: But, to make a shew of defending him to the last, one of the consuls mounted the rostrum in his favour, declaring what actions of service he had done the state; how little, a few words escaping in the heat of passion, ought to be attended to; he signified, that the whole senate were petitioners in his cause, and desired the tribunes, that they would keep wholly to their threatened impeachment, namely, his aiming at the sovereign power. To this, Sicinus, the tribune replied, that he would urge against the guilty, all things, of every kind, that could tend to prove him guilty; that the state had too much to fear from his influence, and his number of clients, not to use every means of bringing him to justice. That he owed much more to the safety of the state, than to any vain complaisance to the senate; and that the very attempt to depress the power of the people, who had all the rights of humanity to govern themselves, was a crime. Coriolanus, upon this, presented himself before the people, with a degree of intrepidity that merited better fortune. His graceful person, his persuasive eloquence, the cries of those whom he had saved from the enemy, enclined the auditors to relent; he began by recounting all the battles he had fought, and the various posts he had sustained; he shewed the various crowns which had been given him by his generals, as rewards of merit, and exposed to view the numberless wounds he had received in acquiring them; he related all the breaches he had entered, and all the lives he had saved, calling out to such as were present, to bear witness to the truth of his recital. These, with the most moving protestations, entreated their fellows to spare that life by which they lived, and if there must be an offering for public resentment, they themselves were ready to die for him. A defence like this, supported with all that boldness which conscious innocence inspires, moved every hearer to think of pardon; many cried out, that so brave a man deserved a triumph not death, and that his very trial was a national reproach. The giddy multitude were going therefore to absolve him, when Decius, one of the tribunes, a man of fluent eloquence, rose up to reply.
"However, cried he, we may be prevented by the senate from urging those speeches which were made amongst that august body, tending to destroy the privileges of the people, yet still we are not uprovided; we decline aggravating what he has said, we have facts, which we call upon the accused to clear himself of. We have an ancient law amongst us, that all plunder taken from the enemy shall be appropriated to the use of the publick, and be given into the treasury, untouched by the general. But a law so equitable in itself, and so inviolably observed by our ancestors, has been infringed by this man, who stands accused before you. In a late incursion into the territories of Antium, though his plunder, both in slaves, cattle, and provisions, was very great, yet the publick were neither the better nor the richer for it: it was divided only among his friends and followers, men, whom probably he only intended to enrich, to be the better able to secure our ruin. It has ever been the practice of tyrants to begin the work of ambition, by forming a numerous body of partizans, who are willing to lose public regard in private emolument. Here then we ground our charge, let him, if he can, deny the fact, and let him bring proofs, not by vainly shewing his scars, but by convincing us of his innocence."
This charge was entirely unexpected, Coriolanus had, in fact, when the people refused to list, issued out at the head of his clients, and plundered the enemy, who had the insolence of making incursions to the very walls of Rome. These spoils which were so justly earned, he never thought of bringing into the treasury, as they were the acquisition of a private adventure. Being therefore unable to answer what was alledged against him to the satisfaction of the people, and utterly confounded with the charge, the tribunes immediately took the votes, and Coriolanus was condemned to perpetual exile.
Never did the populace testify a sincerer joy, even in triumphing over a vanquished enemy, than they did on this occasion, having in a manner totally controlled the power of the senate, since henceforward they assumed a right of summoning any of the individuals of that body before them, whom they thought proper to accuse. The senate, on the other hand, saw themselves reduced to an abject dependance upon the multitude, deprived of all security for their persons, and all their former rights of being judged by each other. This sentence against their bravest defender struck their whole body with sorrow, consternation, and regret. Coriolanus alone, in the midst of this tumult, seemed an unconcerned spectator. He returned home, followed by the lamentations of hundreds of the most respectable senators and citizens of Rome, in order to take a lasting leave of his wife, his children, and his mother Veturia. While they, in the first transports of sorrow, hung round him, as loath to part, he, with a manly fortitude, tore himself from their embraces; he exhorted them to bear their fate with fortitude, but to think of him no more. Thus recommending his little children to their care, and all to the care of heaven, he left the city, without followers or fortune, to take refuge among the enemies of Rome. Thus the plebeians, who had obtained tribunes merely for their own defence, employed those very magistrates to annoy others, and by insensible degrees, stript the patricians of all their former privileges.
Coriolanus, now obliged to wander, sought less for a retreat from Rome, than for an opportunity of vengeance. All his fortitude, and the early institutions of his mother were not able to repress the resentment of his wrongs, or his desire of punishing his enemies, even though it involved the ruin of his country. Tullus Attius, a man of great power among the Volsci, and a violent enemy of the Romans, seemed to him a fit instrument to assist his revenge. Resolving to apply to him, he enters Antium, the city where Tullus commanded, by night, and going directly to his house, seated himself near the hearth, by the houshold gods, a place, which among the heathens was held sacred. Tullus being informed, that a stranger, with an all of dignity far beyond what was common, had taken refuge in his house, came and demanded his name and business.
"My name, cried the Roman, is Caius Marcius: my surname is Coriolanus, the only reward that remains of all my services. I am banished Rome for being a friend to it; I am come to take refuge here, where I have ever been a declared enemy. If you are willing to make use of my services, you shall find me grateful; if you are willing to revenge the injuries I have done, behold me in your power."
Tullus, struck with his dignity and known courage, instantly gave him the hand of friendship, and espoused his quarrel. The first thing therefore to be done, was to induce the Volsci to break the league which had been made with Rome; and for this purpose, Tullus sent many of his citizens to Rome, in order to see some games at that time celebrating, but in the mean time gave the senate private information, that the strangers had dangerous intentions of burning the city. This had the desired effect, the senate issued an order, that all strangers, whoever they were, should depart from Rome before sun-set. This order Tullus represented to his countrymen as an infraction of the treaty, and procured an embassy to Rome, complaining of the breach, and redemanding all the territories belonging to the Volscians, of which they had been violently possessed, declaring war in case of a refusal. This message was treated by the senate with contempt; they bade the Ambassadors inform their countrymen, that menaces were not the way to prevail with Rome; that they would keep with their swords those possessions which their valour had won, and should the Volscians be the first to take up arms, the Romans would be the last to lay them down.
War being thus declared on both sides, Coriolanus and Tullus were made generals of the Volscians, and accordingly invaded the Roman territories, ravaging and laying waste all such lands as belonged to the plebeians, but letting those of the senators remain untouched. In the mean time, the levies went on but slowly at Rome; the two consuls, who were re▪ elected by the people, seemed but little skilled in war, and even
eared to encounter a general, whom they knew to be their superior in the field. The allies also shewed their fears, and slowly brought in their succours, so that Coriolanus continued to take their towns one after the other. Circaeum, a Roman colony, first submitted to h
s arms; he then attacked the Latins, who vainly implored assistance from Rome. The towns of Tolerium, Lavici, Pes, and Bola, were all taken by storm, their goods plundered, and the inhabitants made prisoners of war; such as yield
d were treated mildly; such as resisted were put to the sword: fortune followed him in every expedition, and he was now so famous for his victories, that the Volsci left their towns defenceless, to follow him into the field, being assured, under his conduct, of success. The very soldiers of his colleague's army came over to him, and would acknowledge no other general. Thus finding himself unopposed in the field, and at the head of a numerous army,
e at length pitched his camp at the Cluilian ditch, within five miles of Rome. Nothing now was to be seen in the city that had lately been so turbulent, but timidity and despair. The people, who from their walls beheld the enemy ravaging their fields, begged peace with tears and supplications. They now began to entreat the senate to recal the edict which had banished Coriolanus, and acknowledged the injustice of their former proceedings. The senate however, despised such meanness, resolving if possible, not to betray the injustice of the state to foreign enemies, or to grant those favours to a traitor, which they had denied him when but accused of being so. Yet what could their resolutions avail, when they had not power to support them. Coriolanus approached nearer every day, and at last invested the city, fully resolved to besiege it. It was then that the fierce spirit of the patricians was entirely subdued, both senate and people unanimously agreed to send deputies to him with proposals of a restoration, in case he should draw off his army. Coriolanus received their proposals at the head of his principal officers, and with the sternness of a general that was to give the law. He, with the utmost severity, informed them, that he was now general of the Volscians, and had only their interest to consider: that if they hoped for peace, they must restore all the towns which originally belonged to that people, and make them free of the city, as the Latins were; and that he would give them thirty days to consider of it. The intermediate time he employed in taking several other towns from the Latins, at the end of which he returned, and again encamped his army before the walls of Rome.
Another embassy was now sent forth, conjuring him not to exact from his native city, aught but what became Romans to grant. Coriolanus however, naturally inflexible and severe, still persisted in his former demands, and granted them but three days, in which to finish their deliberations. A message so peremptory, filled the whole town with consternation. Every one now ran to take arms, some posted themselves upon the ramparts, others watched the gates, lest they should be secretly delivered by partizans which Coriolanus had within; others fortified their houses, as if the enemy were already masters of the walls. In this general confusion, there was neither discipline nor command. The consuls, whose fears only were their advisers, had been elected for very different merits, than those of skill in war. The tribunes, lately so fierce, were now no more heard of, all shared the universal terror, and it seemed as if the boasted courage of Rome, had gone over with their general, into the camp of the Volscians. In this exigence, all that seemed left them, was another deputation still more solemn than either of the former, composed of the pontiffs, the priests, and the augurs. These, cloathed in their habits of ceremony, and with a grave and mournful deportment, issued from the city, and entered the camp of the conqueror: they besought him by all that was sacred, by the respect he owed the gods, and that which he might have for those, who being servants of the gods, were now at his feet, to give peace to his country; but all in vain, they found him severe and inflexible as before. He testified that respect for them, which the sanctity of their characters demanded, but sent them away without relaxing in any of his demands.
When the people saw them return ineffectually, they began to give up the commonwealth as lost. Their temples were filled with old men, with women and children, who, prostrate at their altars, put up their ardent prayers for the preservation of their country. Nothing was to be heard but anguish and lamentation, nothing to be seen but scenes of affright and distress. At length it was suggested to them, that what could not be effected by the intercession of the senate, or the adjuration of the priests, might be brought about by the tears of his wife, or the commands of his mother. This deputation seemed to be relished by all, and even the senate itself gave it the sanction of their authority. Veturia, the mother of Coriolanus, at first made some hesitation to undertake so pious a work, knowing the inflexible temper of her son, and fearing only to shew his disobedience in a new point of light, by rejecting the commands of a parent: however, she undertook the embassy, and set forward from the city, accompanied by many of the principal matrons of Rome, with Volumnia his wife, and his two children. Coriolanus, who at a distance discovered this mournful train of females, was resolved to give them a denial, and called his officers round him, to be witnesses of his resolution: but when told, that his mother and his wife were among the number, he instantly came down from his tribunal, to meet and embrace them. At first, the womens tears and embraces took away the power of words, and the rough soldier himself, hard as he was, could not refrain from sharing in their distress.
"My son, cried she, how am I to consider this meeting, do I embrace my son or my enemy, am I your mother or your captive? How have I lived to see this day, to see my son a banished man, and, still more distressful, the enemy of his country? How has he been able to turn his arms against the place which gave him life, how direct his rage against those walls which protect his wife, his children, and his gods? But it is to me only, that my country owes her oppressor; had I never been a mother, Rome had still been free; the wretched consciousness of this will afflict me as long as life shall last, and that cannot last me long. But though I am prepared for death, yet, at least, let these wretched sufferers claim some part of your compassion, and think what will be their fate, when to banishment they must add captivity."
Coriolanus, during this speech, seemed much agitated by contending passions; his mother, who saw him moved, still seconded her words by the most persuasive eloquence, her tears: his wife and children hung round him, entreating for protection and pity, while the fair train, her companions, added their lamentations, and deplored their own and their country's distress. Coriolanus, for a moment, was silent, feeling the strong conflict between honour and inclination; at length, as if rouzed from his dream, he flew to take up his mother, who had fallen at his feet, crying out,
"O my mother, thou hast saved Rome, but lost thy son."
He accordingly gave orders to draw off the army, pretending to the officers, that the city was too strong to be taken. Tullus, who had long envyed his glory, was not remiss in aggravating the lenity of his conduct to his countrymen. Upon their return, Coriolanus was slain in an insurrection of the people, and afterwards honourably buried, with late and ineffectual repentance.
Great and many were the public rejoicings at Rome, upon the retreat of the Volscian army. The senate decreed to grant the women what honours they should demand, but they only asked to have a temple dedicated to Female Fortune, built in the place where they had delivered their country, which was accordingly erected at the public charge. In the mean time, that courage which had been for a time overpowered, began again to shew itself in the field. Coriolanus being no more, they ventured to face their Volscian enemies, who indeed contributed by their own contentions, together with that of their allies, to render any foreign force in a manner unnecessary to their overthrow. A signal victory was obtained over them, and the Hernici the year ensuing. Among others, Tullus their general was slain.
Spurius Cassius Viscellinus had the principal honour in obtaining this victory. He was a man naturally vain, and filled with ostentation: ambitious to an extreme, and as ready to overrate his own services, as to undervalue those of another. He had been three times consul, and had been decreed two triumphs by the senate; these advantages added, to some popularity, raised his pride to aspire at being king of Rome. In order to prepare for this, being impowered by the senate to give the conquered nations what conditions of peace he should think proper, he resolved to attach them to his interests by the most flattering concessions. He therefore gave them back a third of what he had conquered; he granted them the title of citizens of Rome, and treated the vanquished, in all respects, as he would have done a victorious army. To make friends in every part of the state, he gave the Latins one moiety of the conquer'd lands remaining, and reserved the other part for the poor citizens of Rome. Not content with this, he was resolved to encrease his popularity by distributing among the poor some lands which had long been in the possession of the rich, and which he asserted to be the property of the publick. Accordingly, on the day succeeding that of his triumph, giving an account, according to custom, of what he had done, he expatiated upon his extraordinary care and wise management of the commonwealth; on his having encreased the subjects and citizens of Rome, and on his own peculiar endowments for guiding the state; he went on to observe, that hower extensive the conquests of Rome might be, it signified but little, if the rich only enjoyed the advantages of them; if that while the senate and patricians lived in affluence, the veteran soldier pined in want and obscurity. He therefore was of opinion, that an exact estimate should be made of all the lands taken from the enemy, which were now in possession of the rich, and that they should be equally divided among the lower citizens. This was the original of the famous Agrarian law, which afterwards caused such disturbances among the people. Nothing could exceed the indignation of the senate upon hearing it proposed; as they had before been almost stript of their public rights, they saw this attacked them in their private possessions: all that fortune which their ancestors or themselves had acquired by valour or industry, was now destined to be plundered from them, to be distributed among the indolent, the extravagant, and the base. One deliberation succeeded upon another to concert measures how to frustrate the effects of this law, and the ambition of Cassius. The people were not less mutinous on their part; the tribunes, and those whose fortunes were above the lowest rank were unwilling to be reduced to a level with the meanest of those they pretended to direct: the clients of the rich were attached to the interest of their patrons; but notwithstanding this, the majority of the multitude, with Cassius at their head, strenuously clamoured for the Agrarian law, and threatened destruction to the empire, in case of refusal. Even several of the Hernici and Volsci were called in on this occasion to encrease the tumult, or to bring off the proposer, in case of failure. At last, the senate perceived the necessity of complying, and therefore gave the populace a promise, that the lands should be divided among them according to their de
ire; but that the allies and associates, who had no part in acquiring those lands, should have no share in the division. This promise at present appeased the people, and gave the senate an opportunity of concerting measures for punishing the original proposer. Accordingly, some time after, the questors, by their order, appointed a day for Cassius to answer to the charge of his designing to become king, before the assembly of the people. A blow so unexpected alarmed this demagogue with the most just apprehensions, particularly, as he had the tribunes as well as the patricians against him. He appeared before the assembly habited in a manner becoming his situation, and attempted to interest the people in his favour. He alledged, that he was persecuted in this manner by the patricians, for his zeal in their cause; that he was their only surviving friend, and that their interests were combined with his. But he found himself deserted by all. The senate had the justest reason to pursue him; the tribunes envying him his share of popularity, neglected to espouse his cause, and the multitude pleased with the patricians for their late compliance with their demands, gave him up to their fury, who was the promoter of them. Being therefore found guilty of a number of crimes, all tending toward altering the constitution, notwithstanding his many real services, and the intercession of his friends and clients, in mourning, he was thrown headlong from the Tarpeian rock, by those very people, whose interests he had endeavoured to extend. It was too late that they perceived their error, and began to regret their champion with a degree of sorrow, that but argued their ingratitude.
U. C.
274
Soon after the death of Cassius, the people became again urgent for the execution of the Agrarian law, but the senate, by a subterfuge unworthy their wisdom, caused the consuls to prepare for an expedition against the Aequi. The people however at first refused to enlist, till the consuls hitting upon a new expedient, ordered all the country houses of the recusants to be levelled with the ground. This had the desired effect, numbers came to offer themselves, to save their possessions from destruction, and were led against the enemy, with the usual good fortune of Rome. Thus, while the contests continued in the city, the Roman arms made continual progress in Italy; for that spirit of liberty which animated both parties, only contributed to enflame their courage.
These dilatory arts continued for near five years on the part of the senate, and as obstinate a spirit of clamour on that of the people: the one having their private interests, as well as those of the publick to engage them; the other having a promise given, and a consciousness of their own superior power, to encrease their obstinacy. In the midst of these troubles, the Romans received a signal defeat, under the conduct of Virginius, one of their consuls, from the Hetrurian army, and though Fabius came very opportunely to his relief, yet upon his retreat, the enemy made incursions, even to the walls of Rome. This served to encrease the discontents and the animosities of the citizens, the senators still witholding their promise, and the people refusing to enlist. In such an extremity, the family of the Fabii, to the number of four thousand men, offered to defend the frontiers of the Roman territories. They built a castle nigh the borders of the enemy, and making frequent incursions, greatly enriched themselves by the spoil. It will not comport with the brevity of this work, to relate all the minute transactions, and battles without consequence which attended these wars between Rome and these little states round her. It will suffice to say, that they all ended with the same good fortune, namely, the enemies begging peace, and the extension of the territories of Rome. The Fabii however, were less successful, being all cut off to a man by an ambuscade, which was laid for them by the people of Veii. Of this noble family, one only survived, whose posterity became afterwards equally serviceable to the state.
But not the territories alone of Rome were encreased, during these times of war and civil
U. C.
277
commotion, her citizens also became more numerous. In the enumeration of this year, they were found to amount to one hundred and eleven thousand men, fit to bear arms, with treble that number of women, children, and slaves. This encrease of people, without commerce, only tended to advance the disturbances of the city. Every year produced some new tumult between the contending orders of the state. The people, now become the electors of the magistrates, had not skill or integrity to fix upon capable men, and scarce did any consul lay down his office, but the multitude were foremost to accuse his remisness or incapacity. It was in this manner that they accused Menenius, their consul, for suffering the family of the Fabii to be cut off; he was indeed an unskilful general, but he was at the same time innocent of the charge laid against him. This however, did not avail, he was fined about twenty crowns, a sum, which though moderate in modern estimation, he was unable to pay, he therefore, in detestation of the injustice and ingratitude of his fellow citizens, shut himself up in his own house, and starved himself to death.
The year following, the two consuls of the former year, Manlius and Fabius were in the same manner cited by the tribunes to appear before the people. The Agrarian law was the object invariably pursued, and they were accused of having made unjustifiable delays in putting it off. The same perseverance on one side, and obstinacy on the other, again set the city in a ferment, and threatened destruction to one of the parties, when Genutius the Tribune, who had revived the law, was found dead in his bed, though without any marks of violence. A circumstance like this, which should have awakened the suspicions of the people, only served to allarm their superstitions; they began to think the gods were against their cause, and showed symptoms of returning to their former obedience. The consuls, in order to avail themselves of this lucky occasion, began to make fresh levies, for it was now become the settled policy of the times, to draw off the peccant humours of the people by leading them to war; wherefore, mounting their tribunals, and being attended by their lictors, they continued to enrol the citizens with success, till coming to one Volero, a centurion, who refused to be enlisted as a private centinel, they ordered him to be stripped and scourged. This injudicious severity not only rekindled the people's resentment, but afterwards produced a new cause of contention concerning the power of the consuls, and the privileges of the people. The prisoner was rescued by the multitude, the magistrates driven off, and still, to compleat their mortification, soon after, Volero was made one of the tribunes of the people.
The election of this demagogue seemed very injurious to the patrician party; he was not only resolved upon carrying the Agrarian law, but also upon enacting another, in which the people should give their votes by tribes, and not by their curiae or their centuries. This was another mortal blow to the patrician power; for, as when the people voted by centuries, the patricians were entire masters of the contest, and when by curiae, in which only the inhabitants of the city voted, they also, from their number of clients, had the majority of voices; so now, when by this law all freemen of Rome, from whatever part of its territories they came, should be admitted to give a single vote, equal to that of the first senator, all influence was entirely lost, and the patricians had nothing to do but to remain passive. It was therefore at first strongly opposed by the senate, and as warmly urged by the people. In this contest,
U. C.
282
Appius Claudius, the consul, son to the former Appius, by a sort of hereditary hatred to the people, was among the foremost. In one of their public assemblies he opposed their designs so warmly, and so justly exposed the turbulent tempers of the tribunes, that they ordered him to depart the assembly, and upon his refusal, to be sent to prison.
A stretch of power so great astonished all the senators who were present; they offered to take arms in his defence, and as the people had in the former case beaten off the lictors, so they were in this driven off by the patricians. This seemed the signal for a new tumult; stones, torches, and every weapon that fury could furnish, in a place where the citizens never carried arms, were employed against each other. But Quintius, the other consul, of a mild and peaceable disposition, throwing himself into the midst of the combatants, entreating and beseeching some, and menacing others, for that night assuaged their mutual animosity. Their tumults however, were renewed the day following, with more than former fury: Appius, with all his native fierceness, charging at the head of his clients, and other young patricians. But Lectorius, the tribune, with an immense multitude of the lower part of the people, took possession of the Capitol, where they fortified themselves, seemingly determined to hold it out against their opposers. Their conduct now seemed still more resolute than in the former defection of the army to mount Aventine; for, as in that, the insurgents were at a distance from Rome, in this, they were in the very heart of the city. The appeasing of this tumult was reserved for Quintius also, who obtained, by his gentle remonstrances, to have the law referred to the senate, which after many debates, which form, rather than uncertainty might have dictated, resolved, that the tribunes and the people were to be gratified, and that the law was to be enacted without delay. It was past by the consent of all the orders, and the officers of the people were elected from henceforward by the tribes. Thus the people by degrees left the patricians nothing but the shadow of power, of even which the multitude, now taught the art of uniting, were resolved to deprive them.
In the mean time, Appius, as from the former part of his conduct, we may well suppose was far from being disposed to concur in this new concession of power: he that bore the people a contempt, that rather seemed effect of habit than of reason, and inveighed against the senate's pusilanimity. Nor were the people ignorant of this, but desired an occasion of shewing their resentment, for which an opportunity soon offered, upon his being appointed general against the Volscians. These, as usual, had made inroads upon the unguarded frontiers of Rome, and Appius being now the commander of the army, the natural severity of his temper had a field to display itself in. The Roman discipline, which at the mildest was extremely rigorous, he by his strictness rendered almost insupportable. The soldiers but slowly obeyed a general they hated, and he, in return, encreased his rigours upon the slowness of their obedience. They now therefore considered his severity rather as a malicious vengeance, than an wholesome chastisement, and only awaited the enemy, to retaliate, not upon his person, but his glory. Accordingly the enemy appeared, and the Romans fled. He led them into the camp in order to harrangue them, and they universally refused to give him an audience. He then endeavoured to draw them off from the enemy, but the whole body fled, instead of making a regular retreat. At length he found means of securing that part of his forces which yet remained, by encamping them in a place of safety, where marshaling them in their ranks, and reviling them for their cowardice, he gave posterity a great example of the severity of Roman discipline, and the greatness of military obedience. He first ordered all the centurions who had fled or quitted their ranks, to be scourged and then beheaded; and then asking his soldiers where were their arms, he chose out every tenth man, by lot, and him he executed in the presence of his trembling companions. Soldiers, with so much ardour for liberty in times of peace, and such profound submission to their generals in war, were fitted to make the conquest of the world. Appius however, did not long continue unmolested in his severity, for some time after, the tribunes pushed on the Agrarian law with vigour, and he persisting in his opposition, they appointed him a day to answer to an accusation against him, of being the declared enemy of public liberty. Appius obeyed, but appeared before the people, not in the usual manner, in a supplicating dress or posture, but spoke for himself with a confidence, that a previous, settled resolution to die, had inspired. The tribunes finding that his innocence was too apparent to be impeached, put off his trial to another day, which he prevented by suicide, a practice that was now becoming common in Rome.
The death of Appius, and some wars, or rather incursions made by the Romans into the territories of the Volsci, suspended for a time, the peoples earnestness after the Agrarian law,
U. C.
292
but soon after, the tribunes began new commotions, and had the boldness to assert, that the people ought not only to have a share in the lands, but also in the government of the commonwealth, and that a code of written laws should be compiled, to mark out the bounds of their duty. The opposition to this was not les
violent on the side of the patricians, who drove the clamorous multitude from the Forum, headed by Caeso, the son of that Quintius Cincinnatus, whom we shall hereafter find so famous for his courage and his frugality. The tribunes resolved to make an example of this young patrician, to deter the future outrages of others, and therefore appointed him a day to answer for his life, before the people. His being the son of a man entirely respected by both parties, was treated with such lenity, that he was admitted to bail, but flying to Etruria, his father was obliged to sell almost his whole estate to reimburse the sureties, and then retreating to a small farm and a little cottage beyond the Tyber, lived a contented life, tilling his few acres, with his own hands, and reaping the produce of his industry. The tribunes however, were not satisfied with the expulsion of Caeso, they still continued to clamour for the Agrarian law, and even raised a report, that the senators had formed a plot against their lives. This contrivance was principally intended to fright the senate into a compliance; but it had only the more obvious effect of encreasing the tumults of the people, and aggravating their animosity.
In this state of commotion and universal disorder, Rome was upon the point of falling into the power of a foreign enemy. Herdonius, a Sabine, a man of great intrepidity and ambition, formed the design of seizing and plundering the city, while it was employed in intestine distractions. For this purpose, having got together an army of about four thousand men, composed of his clients and fugitive slaves, he sent them down the river Tyber on floats by night, so that the people were astonished the next morning, to behold a foreign enemy in possession of the Capitol, the citadel of Rome. Herdonius, on his part, did all that was in his power to persuade the lower citizens and slaves to join his party; to the one he promised freedom, to the other an ample participation of benefits and spoil The tribunes, in this exigence, were far from exciting the people to arms, they, on the contrary, used all their eloquence to persuade them from fighting, until the patricians should engage by oath, to create ten men, with a power of making laws, and to suffer the people to have an equal share in all the benefits that should accrue. These conditions, though very severe, the necessity of the times obliged the consuls to promise, and Valerius, who was one of them, putting himself at the head of such as offered, marched towards the capitol, crying out as he passed,
"Whoever wishes to save his country, let him come and follow me."
A large body of people followed him to the attack, and the capitol was at length retaken by storm, but the consul was killed in the assault. Herdonius slew himself, the slaves died by the executioner, and the rest were made prisoners of war.
But although the city was thus delivered from a foreign invasion, it was by no means set free from its intestine divisions. The tribunes now pressed the surviving consul for the performance of his promise; but it seems, the Agrarian law was a grant the senate could not think of giving up to the people. The consul therefore, made many delays and excuses, till at length, being driven to give a positive answer, he told them, that as the promise was made by the two consuls, he could do nothing alone. An assembly was therefore now appointed for chusing another consul, and the senate, in order to give the people no hopes of obtaining their wishes, fixed upon Quintus Cincinnatus, whose son had so lately been obnoxious to them. Cincinnatus had, as has been already related, for some time given up all the views of ambition, and retired to his little farm, where the deputies of the senate found him holding the plow, and dressed in the mean attire of a labouring husband-man. He apeared but little elevated with the addresses of ceremony, and the pompous habits they brought him, and upon declaring to him the senate's pleasure, he testified rather a concern that his aid should be wanted: he naturally preferred the charms of a country retirement, to the fatiguing splendours of office, and only said to his wife, as they were leading him away,
"I fear, my Attillia, that for this year, our little fields must remain unsown."
Thus taking a tender leave, he departed for the city, where both parties were strongly enflamed against each other. This new consul however, was resolved to side with neither, but by a strict attention to the interests of his country, instead of gaining the confidence of faction, to seize the esteem of all. Thus, by threats, and well-timed submission, he prevailed upon the tribunes to put off their law for a time, and carried himself so as to be a terror to the multitude, whenever they refused to enlist, and their greatest encourager whenever their submission deserved it. His policy consisted in holding the citizens who had
egained the Capitol, as still engaged to follow him, by their oath, and threatening to lead them into a winter encampment, to which they were totally unaccustomed, in case they disobeyed, by which he so far intimidated the tribunes, that they gave up their law, upon condition of his foregoing the threatened encampment: upon the whole, he went through his office with such skill, moderation, humanity, and justice, that the people seemed to forget that they wanted new laws, and the senate seemed to wish his continuance in the consulship. Thus having restored that tranquility to the people, which he so much loved himself, he again gave up the splendours of ambition, to enjoy it with a greater relish in his little farm.
Cincinnatus was not long retired from his office, when a fresh exigence of the state once more required his assistance, the Aequ
and the Volsci, who, though still worsted, still were for renewing the war, made new inroads into the territories of Rome. Minu
ius, one of the consuls
U. C.
295
who succeeded Cincinnatus, was sent to oppose them, but being naturally timid, and rather more afraid of being conquered, than desirous of victory, his army was driven into a defile between two mountains, from which, except through the enemy, there was no egress. This however, the Aequi had the precaution to fortify, so that the Roman army was so hemmed in on every side, that nothing remained but submission to the enemy, famine, or immediate death. Some knights who found means of getting away privately through the enemy's camp, were the first that brought the account of this disaster to Rome. Nothing could exceed the consternation of all ranks of people, when informed of it; the senate, at first, thought of the other consul, but not having sufficient experience of his abilities, they unanimously turned their eyes upon Cincinnatus, and resolved to make him dictator. Cincinnatus, the only person on whom Rome could now place her whole dependence, was found, as before, by the messengers of the senate, labouring in his little field, with chearful industry. He was at first astonished by the ensigns of unbounded power, with which the deputies came to invest him, but still more at the approach of the principal of the senate, who came out to meet him upon his approach. A dignity so unlooked for however, had no effect upon the simplicity or the integrity of his manners: and being now possessed of absolute power, and called upon to nominate his master of the horse, he chose a poor man named Tarquitius, one who, like himself, despised riches when they led to dishonour. Tarquitius was born of a patrician family, but though of consummate bravery, never being able to raise money to purchase an horse, he had hitherto fought only as a foot soldier, willing to serve his country, though in the humblest situation. Thus the saving a great nation was devolved upon an husbandman, taken from the plough, and an obscure centinel found among the dregs of the army. Upon entering the city, the dictator put on a serene look, and entreated all those who were able to bear arms, to repair before sun-set to the Campus Martius (the place were the levies were made) with necessary arms, and provisions for five days. He put himself at the head of these, and marching all night with great expedition, he arrived before day, within sight of the enemy. Upon his approach, he ordered his soldiers to raise a loud shout, to apprize the consul's army of the relief that was at hand. The Aequi were not a little amazed, when they saw themselves between two enemies, but still more, when they perceived Cincinnatus making the strongest entrenchments beyond them, to prevent their escape, and enclosing them as they had enclosed the consul. To prevent this, a furious combat ensued, but the Aequi being attacked on both sides and unable to resist or fly, begged a cessation of arms. They offered the dictator his own terms; he gave them their lives, but obliged them, in token of servitude, to pass under the yoke, which was two spears set upright, and another across, in the form of a door, beneath which the vanquished were to march. Their captains and generals he made prisoners of war, being reserved to adorn his triumph. As for the plunder of the enemies camp, that he gave entirely up to his own s
ldiers, without reserving any part to himself, or permitting those of the delivered army to have a snare. Thus, having rescued a Roman army from inevitable destruction, having defeated a powerful enemy, having taken and fortified their city, and still more, having refused any part of the spoil, he resigned his dictatorship▪ after having enjoyed it but fourteen days. The senate would have enriched him, but he declined their proffers, chusing to retire once more to his farm and his cottage, content with temperance and fame.
U. C.
296
The year following, the Aequi resolving to retrieve their lost reputation, again marched into the field, and retook their city, wherefore, when levies were to be made in Rome to oppose their progress, the tribunes refused to let the people be enrolled. The necessity of the times however was such, that an army was to be raised, and the senators finding the reluctance of the multitude, offered to go themselves, with their clients and dependants. So many old and reverend men, who had long been considered as the fathers of the state, marching feebly out to meet an enemy, whom the young and the vigorous refused to encounter, moved the multitude to such a degree, that in spite of their demagogues, they offered to go, only demanding as a recompence, to have the number of their tribunes encreased from five to ten. This some of the senate considered as an expedient to multiply the number of their enemies; but Cincinnatus, who judged more maturely upon the subject, assured them, it would be the most infallible means of debilitating that power which had so long controlled them. That in case ten were elected, in such a number there were the most just expectations to bring over a part, and that a single tribune could reverse the resolutions of all the rest: accordingly, the senate readily came into his opinion, and pretending to make their compliance a favour, informed the tribunes, that they had, after much deliberation, thought proper to grant their request.
This grant seemed for a while to satisfy the people, but in less than a year, the new tribunes, the first time, uniting all together, made still farther encroachments, and ventured, even by their own authority, to order an assembling of the senate. They required also, that mount Aventine, which being a mile and a half in compass, and as yet untenanted, might be granted to the people to build on. With this, though not till after the most violent contests, the senate agreed, in hopes that it might be a means of suppressing the seditions, which they dreaded from refusing the Agrarian law. Nevertheless, in this they were disappointed, for soon
U. C.
298
after, their tribunes renewed their former complaints and insolence, and the contests were carried on with such little restraint, that blows and not arguments generally terminated every deliberation. To such a pitch of audaciousness were they arrived, that those demagogues set a day, even for the consuls themselves, to answer before the people. They thought proper however, upon maturer consideration, to let drop this insolent prosecution, but at the same time, resolved not to discontinue their unremitting endeavours for the Agrarian law. A day accordingly was fixed, in which this important subject was to be discussed, and numbers of all ranks were present, either to give their votes or their opinions. The tribunes spoke largely on the justice of such a law; several of the people related what services they had done, and what trifling rewards they had obtained: the audience were prepossessed in favour of the law, but still more, when Siccius Dentatus, a plebeian, advanced in years, but of an admirable person and military deportment, came forward to enumerate his hardships and his merits. This old soldier made no scruple of extolling the various atchievements of his youth, but indeed his merits deserved his ostentation. He had served his country in the wars forty years: he had been an officer thirty, first a centurion, then a tribune: he had fought one hundred and twenty battles, in which, by the force of his single arm, he had saved a multitude of lives: he had gained fourteen civic, three mural, and eight golden crowns, besides eighty-three chains, sixty bracelets, eighteen gilt spears, and twenty-three horse-trappings, whereof nine were for killing his enemy in single combat: moreover, he had received forty-five wounds, all before, and none behind, particularly, twelve on the day the Capitol was recovered from the enemy. These were his honours, yet notwithstanding all this, he had never received any share of those lands which were won from the enemy, but continued to draw on a life of poverty and contempt, while others were possest of those very territories which his valour had won, without any merit to deserve them, or ever having contributed to the conquest. A case of so much hardship had a strong effect upon the multitude; they unanimously demanded, that the law might be passed, and that such merit should not go unrewarded. It was in vain that some of the senators rose up to speak against it, their voices were drowned by the cries of the people. When reason therefore could no longer be heard, passion, as usual succeeded, and the young patricians running furiously into the throng, broke the balloting urns, and dispersed the multitude that offered to oppose them. For this they were some time after fined by the tribunes, but their resolution nevertheless, for the present put off the Agrarian law.
It generally happened in Rome, that internal commotions were quieted by foreign invasions, and the approach of the Aequi within sixteen miles of the city, in some measure restored peace to the republick. In this war Siccius Dentatus, the veteran who had harangued the people, gained greater honours than the consul who obtained the victory: for being ordered upon a forlorn hope, to attack the enemy in a quarter where he knew they were inaccessible; he, at first remonstrated the danger and desperation of the attempt, but being reproached by the consul with cowardice, he led on his body of eight hundred veterans to the place, resolved to give by his death, a pattern of obedience, as he had in his life, an example of resolution. Fortune however, was kinder to him than his expectations, for perceiving a passage into the enemies camp, which had not been pointed out by the consul; he led his veterans onward, and while the whole army amused the enemies on one side, he attacked their camp on the other, so that the Romans obtained a complete victory. Dentatus however, being conscious that he was sent upon this dangerous service, only to procure him death or infamy, had interest enough, upon his return, to prevent the consul's having a triumph, as also to get himself created a tribune; likewise, to get a law passed for punishing such magistrates as should for the future violate their authority, and for having both consuls fined for their behaviour to him in particular. Thus the fortune, as well as the perseverance of the tribunes, served to diminish the patrician power every year. All their honours were now fading fast away; their very possessions, those fruits of long labour, remained feebly in suspense, and the next popular breeze threatened to shake them down.
CHAP. XII. From the creation of the Decemviri to the extinction of that office.
THE Commonwealth of Rome had now
U. C.
302
for near sixty years been fluctuating between the contending orders that composed it, till at length, each side, as if weary, were willing to respire a while from the mutual exertions of their claims. The Agrarian law seemed now but little attended to, and all the animosity which it had produced, appeared subsided. But it has ever been with mankind, that they form new desires, in proportion to the number of their possessions. The citizens, now therefore, of every rank, began to complain of the arbitrary decisions of their magistrates, and wished to be guided by a written body of laws, which when known, might prevent wrongs as well as punish them. In this, both the senate and the people concurred, as hoping that such laws would put an end to the commotions that so long had harrassed the state. It was thereupon agreed, that ambassadors should be sent to the Greek cities in Italy, and to Athens, to bring home such laws from thence, as by experience had been found most equitable and useful. For this purpose, three senators, Posthumius, Sulpicius, and Manlius, were fixed upon, and gallies assigned to convoy them, agreeable to the majesty of the Roman people. While they were upon this commission abroad, a dreadful plague depopulated the city at home, and supplied the interval of their absence with other anxiety than that of wishes for their return. In about a year however, the plague ceased, and the ambassadors returned, bringing home a body of laws, collected from the most civilized states of Greece and Italy, which being afterwards formed into ten tables, and two more being added, made that celebrated code, called the laws of the twelve tables, many fragments of which remain to this day.
The ambassadors were no sooner returned, than the tribunes required, that a body of men should be chosen to digest their new laws into proper form, and to give weight to the execution of them. After long debates whether this choice should not be partly made from the people as well as the patricians, it was at last agreed that ten of the principal senators, should be elected, whose power continuing for a year, should be equal to that of kings and consuls, and that without any appeal. That all other magistrates should lay down their offices, until the laws should direct proper substitutes, and that the new legislators should, in the mean time, exercise their authority with all the ensigns of their discontinued power. The persons chosen were, Appius and Genutius, who had been elected consuls for the ensuing year, Posthumius, Sulpicius, and Manlius, the three ambassadors, Sextius and Romulus, former consuls, with Julius, Veturius, and Horatius, senators of the first consideration. Thus the whole constitution of the state at once took a new form, and a dreadful experiment was going to be tried, of governing one nation, by laws formed from the manners and customs of another.
The Decemviri being now invested with absolute power, agreed to take the reigns of government by turns, and that each should dispense justice for a day. They agreed also, to avoid envy, that he alone, who was in the actual exercise of power, should be attended with the ensigns of it; and that the rest should be only preceded by a petty officer, called Accensus, to distinguish them from the vulgar.
The novelty of this form of government seemed extremely pleasing to the people at first, nor was the moderation of the decemviri themselves, less praise-worthy. Appius, in particular, bore away the greatest share of popularity, his affable air, his republican professions, and his moderation, made them even forget his ancestors, or that they once trembled at the name. These magistrates for the first year, wrought with extreme application: they had not only to compile from a great variety of Greek laws, but they were obliged also to get them interpreted by one Hermodorus, an Ephesian, as they themselves were ignorant of the language; a strong instance how little as yet the Romans were advanced in the arts of politeness. At length however, by the help of their interpreter, they formed a body of laws from those brought from Greece, and from the ordinances of their own kings, the whole comprized in ten tables. These were agreed to by the whole people, engraven on plates of brass, and hung up in public view, in the most conspicuous part of the Forum.
Their work being thus finished, it was expected, that the Decemviri would be contented to retire, but having known the charms of power, they were now unwilling to resign it: they therefore pretended, that some laws were yet wanting to compleat their design, and entreated the senate for a continuance of their office. To this they assented. The choice of persons was next the object of public consideration. Appius, burning with a secret thirst of power, feigned himself quite disgusted with the fatigues of the office, and wished only for an able successor. However, underhand he contrived to put all those popular arts in practice, which he knew would, upon his standing a candidate, secure his election. Accordingly, when the day came, his colleagues were surprized to see him the first upon the list of these who stood for the office; and still more, when they found him elected by a great majority of the giddy people, who mistook his ambition for popularity. His friends also were elected through his influence. Fabius, Cornelius, Servilius, Minucius, Antonius, and Rabulius, who were patricians, together with Petillius, Oppius, and Duellius, plebeians, formed the second decemvirate. These three last were chosen from among the people by the interest of Appius, who, to ingratiate himself with the multitude, observed, that it was very proper the people should have a share in forming those laws, by which the people were to to be governed.
Appius being thus reinstated in his high office, now turned all his thoughts towards making it formidable and perpetual: he therefore convened his colleagues, and knowing them to be all his creatures, he opened to them his design of retaining the power, of which they had been put into po
ssion. As they had been previously instructed, they readily came into his proposal, and bound themselves by the most solemn vows, never to dissent among themselves; never to give up their authority; and not to make use of the opinions either of the senate or the people, but in cases of downright necessity. Now therefore, the decemvirate put on a very different appearance from the former year: instead only of one of them being attended by his rods and axes, each made his appearance with those ensigns of terror and authority. Instead of magistrates, mild, just, and affable, the people now beheld them converted into monsters of rapine, licentiousness and cruelty. They only made use of the forms of justice, to put many of the citizens to death, and deprive others of their estates and country. Accusers and informers were suborned from among their dependants, ready to give evidence as they were commanded; while those who expected redress in any suit of justice, had no prospect of success, but to enter into a criminal confederacy with their judges. Thus an universal corruption began to spread itself over the people, while the good and the wise either banished themselves from Rome, or inwardly repined at its distress.
But as such power could not long continue without some of the usual arts of deception, which tyranny must sometimes stoops to, in order to shew the people, that they
ere not unmindful of their duty, they added two tables more of laws to those already promulgated, which together formed, as we have already said, that body of laws that goes by the name of the twelve tables. In these last there was a law, prohibiting all marriages between the patricians and plebeians, by which they hoped to widen the breach between these two orders, and thus avail themselves of their mutual animosity. Their designs however were easily seen through, but the people bore them with patience, for the time of the expiration of their office was now at hand, in which it was expected, they would lay down their misused authority. But they soon threw off the mask, and regardless either of the approbation of the senate or the people, continued themselves, against all order, another year in the decemvirate. A conduct so notorious produced new discontents, and these were as sure to produce fresh acts of tyranny. The city was become almost a desert, with respect to all who had any thing to lose, and the decemvirs rapacity was then only discontinued, when they wanted fresh objects to exercise it upon. In this state of slavery, proscription and mutual distrust, not one citizen was found to strike for his country's freedom; these tyrants continued to rule without control, being constantly guarded, not with their lictors alone, but a numerous crowd of dependants, clients, and even patricians, whom their vices had confederated round them.
In this gloomy situation of the state, the Aequi and Volsci, those constant enemies of the Romans, undertook their incursions, resolved to profit by the intestine divisions of the people, and advanced within about ten miles of Rome. This was an unexpected stroke to the decemviri, who had no authority to raise an army themselves, and therefore went reluctantly to ask aid from the senate, whose deliberations had now been long suspended. In this pressing juncture, the senate was at last called together, where Appius, in a premeditated oration, propounded the business for which they were convened. He then desired that each should speak his sentiments as he named them, but Valerius, the grandson of Poplicola, rising out of his turn, was ordered by the tyrant to sit down. Valerius however, would not desist, but violently inveighed against the tyranny of the decemvirate, and their effrontery, in expecting that the senate, whose power they had destroyed, should now take measures to support their betrayers. His speech was seconded by Marcus Horatius, who, with still greater freedom, exposed their horrid invasion of the rights of their country; their outrages, their rapines, and their cruelty. Appius, at first, seemed to bear this harrangue with patience, but at last, his passions, long used to indulgence, could no longer keep within restraint, he flew out into violence, and threatened to have Horatius thrown headlong from the Tarpeian rock. All the senators exclaimed against this infringement of the liberty of free debate, as the highest breach of their privileges, and an intolerable act of power. Whereat the decemvir, a little repenting his rashness, began to excuse himself, saying, that he was willing to give liberty to all deliberations upon the question, but could not bear an oration, which, leaving the point in debate, only seemed calculated to promote sedition. That he and his colleagues had received an unlimited power from the people, till the great work of forming the laws was finished, during which they were resolved to act to the extent of their power, and then would be answerable for their administration. This was a sufficient display of their intentions, all the uninfluenced part of the senate, particularly Claudius, the uncle of Appius, spoke with detestation of their proceedings; but a large party in the house, whom the decemviri had previovsly formed, and still others whom their fears had biassed, shewed themselves enclined to agree with Appius in whatever he should propose. He therefore demanded, that he and his colleagues should have a power of levying and commanding the forces that were to go against the Aequi, and immediately a decree of the senate passed, confirming this proposal.
The decemviri now in possession of all the military as well as of the civil power, divided their army into three parts, whereof one continued with Appius in the city, to keep it under awe; the other two were commanded by his colleagues, and were led, one against the Aequi, and the other against the Sabines. The Roman soldiers had not got into a method of punishing the generals whom they disliked, by suffering themselves to be vanquished in the field. They put it in practice upon this ocasion, and shamefully abandoned their camp upon the approach of the enemy. Never was the news of a victory more joyfully received at Rome, than the tidings of this defeat; the generals, as is always the case, were blamed for the treachery of their men; some demanded that they should be deposed, others cried out for a dictator to lead the troops to conquest; but among the rest, old Siccius Dentatus, the tribune, spoke his sentiments with his usual openness, and treating the generals with contempt, shewed all the faults of their discipline in the camp, and their conduct in the field. Appius, in the mean time, was not remiss in observing the disposition of the people. Dentatus in particular was marked out for vengeance, and under pretence of doing him particular honour, he was appointed legate, and put at the head of the supplies which were sent from Rome. The office of legate was held as sacred among the Romans, as in it were united both the authority of a general, with the reverence of the priesthood. Dentatus no way suspecting his design, went to the camp with alacrity, where he was received with all the external marks of respect. But the generals soon found means of indulging their desire of revenge. He was appointed at the head of an hundred men to go and examine a more commodious place for encampment, as he had very candidly assured the commanders, that their present situation was wrong. The soldiers however, who were given as his attendants, were assassins, wretches who had long been ministers to the vengeance of the decemviri, and who now engaged to murder him, tho' with all that terror, which his reputation, as he was called the Roman Achilles, might be supposed to inspire. With these designs they led him from the way into the hollow bosom of a retired mountain, where they began to set upon him from behind. Dentatus now too late perceived the treachery of the decemviri, and was resolved to sell his his life as dearly as he could; he therefore put his back to a rock, and defended himself against those who pressed most closely. Tho' now grown old,, he had still the remains of his former valour, and killed no less than fifteen of the assailants, and wounded thirty with his own hand. The assassins now therefore terrified at his amazing bravery, showered in their javelins upon him at a distance, all which he received in his shield with undaunted resolution. The combat, though so unequal in numbers, was managed for some time with doubtful success, till at length his assailants bethought themselves of ascending the rock against which he stood, and thus poured down stones upon him from above. This succeeded, the old soldier fell beneath their united efforts, after having shewn by his death, that it was to his fortitude, and not his fortune, he had come off so many times victorious. The decemviri pretended to join in the general sorrow for so brave a man, and decreed him a funeral with the first military honours: but the greatness of their apparent distress, compared with their known hatred, only rendered them still more detestable to the people. However, a transaction still more atrocious than the former, served to inspire the citizens with resolution to break all measures of obedience, and at last to restore freedom.
Appius, who still remained at Rome, sitting one day on his tribunal to dispense justice, saw a maiden of exquisite beauty, and aged about fifteen, passing to one of the public schools, attended by a matron, her nurse. The charms of this damsel, heightened by all the innocence of virgin modesty, caught his attention, and fired his heart. The day following, as she past, he found her still more beautiful than before, and his breast still more enflamed. He now therefore resolved to obtain the gratification of his passion, whatever should be the consequence, and found means to inform himself of the virgin's name and family. Her name was Virginia. She was the daughter of Virginius, a centurion, then with the army in the field, and had been contracted to Icilius, formerly a tribune of the people, who had agreed to marry her at the end of the present campaign. Appius at first resolved to break this match, and to espouse her himself; but the laws of the twelve tables had forbidden the patricians to intermarry with the plebeians, and he could not infringe these, as he was the enactor of them. Nothing therefore remained but a criminal enjoyment, which, as he was long used to the indulgence of all his passions, he resolved on. After having vainly tried to corrupt the fidelity of her nurse, he had recourse to another expedient, still more guilty. He pitched upon one Claudius, who had long been the minister of his pleasures, to assert that the beautiful maid was his slave, and to refer the cause to his tribunal for decision. Claudius behaved exactly according to his instructions, for entering into the school, where Virginia was playing among her female companions, he seized upon her as his property, and was going to drag her away by force, but was prevented by the people drawn together by her cries. At length however, after the first heat of opposition was over, he led the weeping virgin to the tribunal of Appius, and there plausibly exposed his pretensions. He asserted that she was born in his house, of a female slave, who sold her to the wife of Virginius, who had been barren. That he had several creditable evidences to prove the truth of what he said, but that until they could come together, it was but reasonable, that the slave should be delivered into his custody, being her proper master. Appius seemed to be struck with the justice of his claims; he observed, that if the reputed father himself were present, he might indeed be willing to delay the delivery of the maiden for some time, but that it was not lawful for him in the present case, to detain her from her lawful master. He therefore adjudged her to Claudius, as his slave, to be kept by him till Virginius should be able to prove his paternity. This sentence was received with loud clamours and reproaches by the multitude; the women in particular came round the innocent Virginia, as if willing to protect her from her judge's fury, while Icilius, her lover, boldly opposed the decree, and obliged Claudius to take refuge under the tribunal of the decemvir. All things now threatened an open insurrection, when Appius fearing the event, thought proper to suspend his judgment till the arrival of Virginius, who was then about eleven miles from Rome, with the army. The day following however, was fixed for the trial, and in the mean time, Appius sent letters to the generals to confine Virginius, as his arrival in town might only serve to kindle sedition among the people. These letters however, were intercepted by the centurion's friends, who sent him down a full relation of the design laid against the liberty and the honour of his only daughter. Virginius upon this, pretending the death of a near relation, got permission to leave the camp, and flew to Rome, inspired with indignation and revenge. Accordingly, the next day he appeared before the tribunal, to the astonishment of Appius, leading his weeping daughter by the hand, both habited in the deepest mourning. Claudius, the accuser, was also there, and began by making his demand: he said, that it was well known, that the children of slaves belonged to the masters of their parents, and that Virginia was born in slavery. He observed, that pity might be an inducement to many to forego their claims, but that he would sacrifice all lesser considerations to justice. He then produced a female slave whom he had corrupted, to swear that she had sold Virginia to the wife of her reputed father, and he ended his pretensions by asserting, that he could confirm her testimony by that of many others, had it been needful. Virginius next spoke in turn; he represented that his wife had many children, that she had been seen pregnant by numbers; that if he had intentions of adopting a supposititious child, he would have fixed upon a boy rather than a girl; that it was notorious to all, that his wife had herself suckled her own child; and that it was surprizing, such a claim should be now revived, after a fifteen years discontinuance. While the father spoke this with a stern air, Virginia stood trembling by, and with looks of persuasive innocence, added weight to all his remonstrances. The people seemed entirely satisfied of the hardship of his case, till Appius fearing what he said might have dangerous effects upon the multitude, interrupted him, under a pretence of being sufficiently instructed in the merits of the cause.
"Yes, says he, my conscience obliges me to declare, that I myself am a witness to the truth of the deposition of Claudius. Most of this assembly know that I was left guardian to this youth, and I was very early apprized, that he had a right to this young woman, but the affairs of the public, and the dissentions of the people, then prevented my doing him justice. However, it is not now too late, and by the power vested in me for the publick good, I adjudge Virginia to be the property of Claudius, the plaintiff. Go, therefore, lictors, disperse the multitude, and make room for a master to repossess himself of his slave."
The lictors, in obedience to his command, soon drove off the throng that pressed round the tribunal, and now they seized upon Virginia, and were delivering her up into the hands of Claudius, when Virginius who found that all was over, seemed to acquiesce in the sentence. He therefore mildly entreated Appius to be permitted to take a last farewel of her whom he had long considered as his child, and that so satisfied, he would return to his duty with fresh alacrity. With this the decemvir complied, but upon condition, that their endearments should pass in his presence. Virginius, with the most poignant anguish, took his almost expiring daughter in his arms, he for a while supported her head upon his breast, and wiped away the tears that rolled down her lovely visage, and happening to be near the shops that surrounded the Forum, he snatched up a knife that lay on the shambles, and addressing his daughter,
"My dearest, lost child, cried he, this, this alone can preserve your honour and your freedom."
So saying, he buried the weapon in her breast, and then holding it up, reeking with the blood of his daughter,
"Appius, he cried, by this blood of innocence, I devote thy head to the infernal gods."
Thus saying, with the bloody knife in his hand, and threatening destruction to whosoever should oppose him; he ran through the city wildly, calling upon the people to strike for freedom, and from thence went to the camp, in order to spread a similar flame through the army.
He no sooner arrived at the camp, followed by a number of his friends, but he informed the army of all that was done, still holding the bloody knife in his hand. He asked their pardon, and the pardon of the gods, for having committed so rash an action, but ascribed it all to the dreadful necessity of the times. He implored them, by that blood which was dearer to him than his own, to redeem their sinking country, observing, that no military oaths could b
nd them to their commanders, who were usurpers all of them, and could pretend to no real authority. The army, already predisposed, immediately with shouts ecchoed their assent, and decamping, left their generals behind, to take their station once more upon mount Aventine, whither they had retired about forty years before. The other army, which had been to oppose the Sabines, seemed to feel a similar resentment, and came over in large parties to join them.
Appius, in the mean time, did all he could to quell the disturbances in the city, but finding the tumult incapable of being controlled, and perceiving that his mortal enemies, Valerius and Horatius, were the most active in opposition, he at first attempted to find safety by flight; nevertheless, being encouraged by Oppius, who was one of his colleagues, he ventured to assemble the senate, and urged the punishment of all deserters. The senate however, was far from giving him the relief he sought for, they foresaw the dangers and miseries that threatened the state, in case of opposing the incensed army, they therefore dispatched messengers to them, offering to restore their former mode of government, to which the people joyfully assented, and returned to the city, if not with the ensigns, at least, with the pleasure of a triumphant army.
Thus ended the decemvirate, after having continued somewhat less than three years. I have given the picture of this administration, after the Roman historians, aggravated with all the invectives with which they usually load it. However, if there be any part of their history, in which they shew a manifest prejudice, it is here. The charges against the decemviri, of rapine and murder, are all, except one or two, merely general; and of these which are specicified, the facts do not seem aequipollent to the accusation. However, the limits I have assigned myself in this work, are too short to permit a discussion of their veracity, and perhaps too it is our wisest way, at this distant period, to take the accounts as given us by the historians of the time, and not to shew an affectation of sagacity, by attempting to new state an evidence, which has been credited through successive ages. All that may be observed is, that the laws promulgated by this body of men, were reckoned an admirable compilation, and ever after, in Rome, and even in most parts of Europe, even to this day, have continued among lawyers to be of the greatest authority.
CHAP. XIII. From the expulsion of the Decemviri, to the burning of Rome by the Gauls.
THE people now freed from a yoke which
U. C.
304
they had laid upon themselves, elected Valerius and Horatius, consuls for the ensuing part of the year, and Virginius and Icilius, of the number of their tribunes. The punishment of the decemviri was what first engaged the attention of these popular magistrates, and Appius was appointed a day to answer the charges brought against him of tyranny and murder. Oppius, one of his colleagues, next to him in guilt, was also arraigned, but both too well saw what mercy they had to expect, either from their judges, who were professed enemies, or from the people, whose resentment they had but too frequently incurred: they therefore resolved to prevent that fury which they could not withstand, and both died by their own hands in prison. The other eight went into voluntary exile, and Claudius, the pretended master of Virginia, was driven out after them. Thus the vengeance of the tribunes pursued these devoted men, and seemed as yet unsatisfied with punishing. They were preparing to out-go those whom they had deposed for cruelty, in the very same walks of rage, and the senate began to tremble at seeing so many of their members devoted to destruction. Duillius however, one of the tribunes, being more moderate than the rest of his colleagues, quieted their fears by openly professing, that no more blood should be shed on this occasion; that sufficient vengeance had been taken for the death of Virginia, and that he forbade all future prosecutions on that account.
This in some measure satisfied the senate for the present, but they soon found cause of fresh resentment. The two new consuls seemed entirely to have abandoned the interests of the patricians, and equally popular with the tribunes themselves, to study only the gratification of the people. They procured a law, by which each of the plebeians should, in his individual capacity, have as much influence in all elections and deliberations whatsoever, as any one of the patricians, which gave the finishing blow to all distinction between them. A law so injurious to the power of the senate, produced, as may be easily supposed, a desire to mortify the consuls, who only aimed at encreasing their own influence, by the depression of that body. An opportunity for this soon offered, for the consuls having marched against the Aequi and Sabines, gained a complete victory, and demanded a triumph. The senate however were resolved not to comply, and declared them unworthy of that honour The consuls appealed to the people, and complaining loudly against the senate, procured a law for the privilege of a triumph, by the authority of the plebeians alone. Thus did the two orders of the state continue for some years mutually opposing each other, the patricians defending the small shadow of distinction which they had left, and the people daily insisting upon fresh concessions, as if their appetites encreased, by what was granted to satisfy them.
In the mean time, these intestine tumults produced weakness within the state, and confidence in the enemy abroad. The wars with the Aequi and Volsci still continued, and as each year some trifling advantages were obtained over the Romans, they at last advanced so far, as to make their incursions to the very
U. C.
309
walls of Rome. But not the courage only of the Romans seemed diminished by these contests, but their other virtues also, particularly their justice. About this time, the inhabitants of two neighbouring cities, Ardea and Aricia, had a contest between themselves, about some lands that had long been claimed by both. At length, being unable to agree, they referred it to the senate and the people of Rome. The senate had yet some of the principles of primitive justice remaining, and refused to determine the dispute. But the people readily undertook the decision, and one Scaptius, an old man, declaring, that these very lands of right belonged to Rome, they immediately voted themselves to be the legal possessors, and sent home the former litigants, thoroughly convinced of their own folly, and of the Roman injustice.
The tribunes now grew more and more turbulent, and having come into a principal share in the administration of government, nothing would satisfy them, without having a participation of the whole. With these views they proposed two laws, one to permit plebeians to intermarry with patricians, and the other to permit them to be admitted to the consulship also. The senators received these proposals with their accustomed indignation, and seemed resolved to undergo the utmost extremities, rather than submit to enacting them. However, finding their resistance only encrease the commotions of the state, they at last consented to pass the law concerning marriages, hoping that this concession would satisfy the people. But they were to be appeased but for a very short time, for returning to their old custom of refusing to enlist upon the approach of the enemy, the consuls were forced to hold a private conference with the chief of the senate, where, after many debates, Claudius proposed an expedient, as the most probable means of satisfying the people in the present conjuncture. This was by no means to contaminate the consulship, by suffering it to come into the hands of the people, but to create six or eight governors in the room of consuls, whereof, one half at least should be patricians. This project, which was but a poor subterfuge, and was in fact, granting what the people demanded, pleased the whole meeting, and that nothing might seem preconcerted among them, they agreed, that at the next public meeting of the senate, the consuls should, contrary to their usual custom, begin, by asking the opinion of the youngest senator, whereas, formerly they always began by asking that of the senior. Upon assembling the senate, one of the tribunes accused them of holding secret meetings, and managing dangerous designs against the people. The consuls, on the other hand, averred their innocence, and to demonstrate their sincerity, gave any of the younger members of the house leave to propound their opinions. These remaining silent, such of the older senators as were known to be popular, began by observing, that the people ought to be indulged in their request, and that none so well deserved power, as those who were most instrumental in gaining it, and that the city could not be free until all were reduced to perfect equality. Claudius, as was agreed upon, spoke next, and though very willing to advance the intentions of those who spoke before him, in order to conceal his designs, he broke out into bitter invectives against the people, asserting, that it was his opinion, that the law should not pass. This produced some disturbance among the plebeians, but at length Genutius, as if to moderate between the senate and the people, proposed, as had been preconcerted, that six governors should be annually chosen, with consular authority, three from the senate, and three from the people; and that when the time of their magistracy should be expired, then it would be seen, whether they would have the same office continued, or whether the consulship should be established upon its former footing. This project was eagerly embraced by the people, because it promised something new, and leave was given to any of the plebeians to stand for this new office. Yet so fickle were the multitude, that though many of their own rank stood, yet none of them were thought worthy of the honour, and the choice wholly fell upon the patricians, who offered themselves as candidates. Thus a new form of
U. C.
310
government was now to be tried, the people still mistaking change for improvement. These new magistrates were called M
itary Tribunes, they were at first but three, afterwards they were encreased to four, and at length to six. They had the power and the ensigns of consuls, yet their power being divided among a number, each singly was of less authority. The first that were chosen, only continued in their office about three months, the augurs having found something amiss in the ceremonies of their election.
The military tribunes being deposed, the consuls once more came into office, and in order to lighten the weight of business which they were obliged to sustain, a new office was elected, namely, that of Censors, who were to be chosen every fifth year. Their business was to take an estimate of the number and estates of the people, and to distribute them into their proper classes; to inspect into the lives and manners of their fellow citizens; to degrade senators for misconduct; to dismount knights, and to turn down plebeians from their tribes into an inferior, in case of misdemeanour. The two first censors were Papirius and Sempronius, both patricians, and from this order they continued to be elected for near an hundred years.
This new creation served to restore peace for some time among the orders, and a triumph gained over the Volscians by Geganius the consul, added to the universal satisfaction that reigned among the people. As it was said of the Greeks, that a victory gained at the Olympic games raised the conqueror to the highest pitch of human splendour, so it might be said of the Romans, that a triumph was the greatest honour they had any idea of. For this their generals fought, not less than for the benefit of the state; the people also, when entertained with such spectacles, forgot their private distresses in an empty notion of their country's glory.
This calm however, was but of short continuance, for some time after, a famine pressing hard upon the poor, the usual complaints
U. C.
313
against the rich were renewed, and these, as before, proving ineffectual, produced new seditions. The consuls were accused of neglect, in not having laid in proper quantities of corn; they however, disregarded the murmurs of the populace, content with exerting all their care in attempts to supply the pressing necessities. But though they did all that could be expected from active magistrates, in providing and distributing provisions to the poor; yet Spurius Maelius, a rich knight, who had purchased up all the corn of Tuscany, by far outshone them in liberality. This patrician, who had long beheld the struggles of the state, was enflamed with a secret desire of becoming powerful by its contentions: he therefore distributed corn in great quantities among the poorer sort each day, till at last, his house became the asylum of all such as wished to exchange a life of labour for one of lazy dependance. When he had thus gained a sufficient number of partizans, he procured large quantities of arms to be purchased and brought into his house by night, and formed a plan of conspiracy, by which he was to be made commander, while some of the tribunes, whom he had found means to corrupt, were to act under him, in seizing upon the liberties of his country. Minucius, who was at that time appointed to the care of providing for the people, soon discovered the plot that was thus formed against their freedom, and informing the senate thereof, they immediately formed a resolution of creating a dictator, who should have the power of quelling the conspiracy, without appealing to the people. Cincinnatus, who was now eighty years old, was chosen once more to rescue his country from impending danger. He began by summoning Maelius to appear, who being, as he thought, sufficiently supported by the multitude, refused to obey. He next sent Ahala, the master of his horse, to force him, who meeting him in the Forum, and pressing Maelius to follow him to the dictator's tribunal, upon his refusal, Ahala killed him upon the spot. The dictator applauded the resolution of his officer, and commanded the conspirator's goods to be sold, and his house to be demolished, distributing his stores among the people.
The tribunes of the people were much enraged at the death of Maelius, and in order, in some measure to punish the senate at the next election, instead of consuls, insisted upon restoring
U. C.
315
their military tribunes. With this, the senate were obliged to comply, and though the plebeians had a right of being taken into the office, three patricians, as in the former election, were again chosen. The next year however, the government returned to its ancient channel, and consuls were chosen.
During these contests, the Veians and the Volscians went on with their customary incursions, and the very allies of Rome themselves, began to waver in their allegiance. Fidenae, an ancient colony belonging to the Romans, revolted to Tolumnius, king of the Veians, and still more to enhance their crime, murdered the ambassadors that were sent to complain of the infidelity. To punish this conduct with more signal vengeance, a dictator was appointed, and the choice fell upon Mamercus Aemilius. A victory was obtained over the Veii, the king of their nation was slain, and Aemilius marched back to Rome, with all the ensigns of triumph, ennobled by the spoils of a king.
It should seem now, as if the senate and consuls could carry on no business by their own authority alone, since we find them, the year following, creating another dictator, to oppose a threatened confederacy of the Veian nations. Servilius Priscus was chosen to this high office. The year succeeding, we read of Aemilius, who had been dictator so lately before, being again chosen. He having no employment abroad, was resolved to do something at home, and accordingly caused the censorship, which had been before appointed to continue eight years, to be held but for one year and an half, for which the censors soon after fined and degraded him, upon laying down his office. This conduct of theirs, on the other hand, enraged the people, and instead of consuls, military tribunes were the next time chosen. In about four
U. C.
320
years after, consuls were introduced again, and upon a threatened invasion of the Aequi, a dictator, Posthumius Tubero, was created, who closed his dictatorship with a triumph. Four
U. C.
326
years after this, the fluctuation of councils brought up military tribunes again, and their want of success in war, obliged the people to create Aemilius, for the third time, dictator, who gained another triumph. For two years after this, military tribunes continued; then consuls, and then tribunes again: thus the state continued to fluctuate between the different ororders, for more than fifteen years, during which time, there was but little of any thing important transacted, either abroad or at home: the senate seemed to have lost all its authority, and the people all their military virtue. The former, who were possessed of the riches of the state, seemed willing to grant all their privileges, in order to secure their property from the Agrarian law; and the people employed so much time in attending the harangues of their tribunes, that they became poor, discontented, and noisy. Whenever the approach of an enemy was talked of, the danger was so magnified, by either the fears or the real weakness of the state, that nothing but that desperate method of chusing a dictator could be found to oppose it. So that in a period of twenty years, we find the people above ten times giving up their liberty, their possessions, and their lives, to one of their fellow citizens, and only indebted for their safety to his still remaining virtue. Thus after Aemilius, Servilius Priscus was again chosen, whom we have mentioned as thrice dictator
U. C.
335. 345.
before, and after him Cornelius Cossus. These absolute magistrates, it is true, in some measure restored discipline to the army, and encreased the territories of the state; but it was purchasing conquest too dear, to give up all that was valuable in life to obtain it. The ill effects indeed of their absolute authority, were not discovered till many years after; at present, the senate seemed pleased with electing a magistrate out of their own body, who could intimidate the people: the multitude, on the other hand, were proud to follow and obey one who generally led them to conquest and plunder, for the dictators usually divided the spoils of the conquered towns among them, in order to encrease their own popularity. Thus the plunder of Anxur, a city taken from the Volscians, seemed to diffuse a new spirit amongst them, which however continued no longer than until their necessities called for a new supply.
Things continued in this state of commotion for a long time, factions becoming every day stronger, and the government weaker; the tribunes of the people still augmenting the breach between the orders of the commonwealth, and calling their licentiousness liberty. At length however, the senate hit upon an expedient, which served greatly to encrease their own power, and at the same time, highly pleasing the people, though it must be owned, it served to shew how greatly the Romans were fallen from their former virtues. The citizens who went to the field, had hitherto fought their country's battles for nothing; they were husbandmen and soldiers; the same hands that drew the sword in one season, were seen holding the plough in another, and they were obliged to furnish not only their own arms, but their own provisions, during the campaign. In these difficulties however, they chearfully acquiesced, as the hopes of plunder, and the honours of returning in triumph, were considered as an ample compensation. Nevertheless, it sometimes fell out, that if the campaign was of long continuance, their little farms remained untilled, and they themselves were reduced the next season to extreme indigence. Hence they were obliged to incur debts, and hence proceeded that various train of extortions, usuries, and petty cruelties, which the creditors made use of to oppress the people. To remedy these evils, the senate unanimously came to a resolution of paying the soldiery out of the treasury, and for this purpose they laid on a new tax, from which none of the citizens were to be exempted. This regulation in some measure, gave a new turn to the Roman method of making war; as what might before have been called incursions, were now become regular, lengthened campaigns. The senate was now no longer to be obliged to the tribunes, in order to raise an army, as the people would gladly enlist, since they were sure of their reward. Nothing therefore could exceed their joy upon this occasion, they surrounded the senate-house with acclamations, they offered to follow their conscript fathers wherever they should lead them, and promised never to murmur more.
U. C.
347
The Senate thus reconciled to the people, and now become masters of an army that they could keep in the field as long as they thought proper, resolved to take signal vengeance of the Veians, and besiege their capital city, though the attempt should endanger their own. The city of Veii had long been a flourishing, strong, and formidable place; it was seated upon a craggy rock, and furnished with resolute and numerous defenders. It had lately changed its form of government, from republican into that of kingly, and such a change being disliked by the allies of this state, this contributed, in some measure, to their tamely suffering it to be surrounded by the Roman army. The Romans indeed, had every reason to inspire them with resentment. The Veians had long been the rivals of Rome; they had ever taken the opportunity of its internal distresses, to ravage its territories, and had even treated its ambassadors, sent to complain of these injuries, with outrage. It seemed now therefore determined, that Veii, whatever it should cost, was to fall, and the Romans accordingly sate regularly down before it, prepared for a long and painful resistance. The strength of the place may be inferred from the continuance of the siege, which lasted for ten years, during which time, the army continued encamped round it, lying in winter, under tents made of the skins of beasts, and in summer, driving on the operations of the attack. Various was the success, and many were the commanders that directed the siege; some times all the besiegers works were destroyed, and many of their men cut off by sallies from the town; sometimes they were annoyed by an army of Veians, who attempted to bring assistance from without. A siege so bloody, seemed to threaten depopulation to Rome itself, by draining its forces continually away, so that a law was obliged to be made, for all the batchelors to marry the widows of the soldiers who were slain. The tribunes of the people also did not fail to render this great undertaking still more arduous by their continual murmurs and skill in raising dissensions at home. They blamed the commanders, and prohibited the taxes from being raised, which were to pay the soldiery; and still more to perplex the senate, they began to make new proposals for passing the Agrarian law. Such dissension among the Romans, and so much obstinacy on the part of the Veii, began to depress the sanguine expectations of the senate, they trembled for the consequences of so much blood and treasure expended in an ineffectual siege, therefore willing to strike one vigorous blow before relinquishing their favourite aim, they created Furius Camillus, dictator, and to him was entrusted the sole power of managing the long protracted war. Camillus was a man, who without intrigue or any sollicitation had raised himself to the first eminence in the state: he had been made one of the censors some time before, and was considered as the head of that office; he was afterwards made a military tribune, and had in this post gained several advantages over the enemy. It was his great courage and abilities in the above offices, that made him thought most worthy to serve his country on this pressing occasion. Upon his appointment, numbers of the people flocked to his standard, confident of success under so experienced a commander. He accordingly drew out his forces against the enemy, and overthrew the Falisci, one of the little powers confederated against Rome, with great slaughter: the Capenates also shared the same fate, and were obliged to beg protection; wherefore, being thus master of the field, he turned all his force to prosecute the siege of Veii with vigour. Conscious however, that he was unable to take the city by storm, he secretly wrought a mine into it, with vast labour, which opened into the midst of the citadel. Certain thus of success, and finding the city incapable of relief, he sent to the senate, desiring, that all who chose to share in the plunder of Veii, should immediately repair to the army. Then giving his men directions how to enter at the breach, the city was instantly filled with his legions, to the amazement and consternation of the besieged, who but a moment before, had rested in perfect security. Thus, like a second Troy, was the city of Veii taken, after a ten years siege, and with its spoils enriched the conquerors, while Camillus himself, transported with the honour of having subdued the rival of his native city, triumphed after the manner of the kings of Rome, having his chariot drawn by four milk-white horses, a distinction which did not fail to disgust the majority of the spectators, as they considered those emblems as sacred, and more proper for doing honour to their gods, than their generals.
The people soon after pretended to find still greater cause of offence. Their tribunes had proposed, that the senate and people should divide into two parts, whereof, one should continue in Rome, the other should settle at Veii, their new conquest. This, Camillus earnestly opposed, and diverted the multitude from their intention, though it procured their anger. No
were they less displeased with him soon after, when they found themselves obliged to restors the tenth part of the plunder they had taken, which, before the siege, he had devoted to Apollo. The soldiers, for the most part, had spent theirs long since, so that they would have been incapable of refunding, had not the Roman women parted with their golden ornaments, to the amount of eight talents of gold, to supply them. For this generous action, they were decreed the privilege of having funeral orations pronounced over their bodies, which had not been allowed to women before. Camillus was rendered by this step, still more unpopular than before.
However, in the midst of this general dislike, he was, some time after, created one of the military tribunes, and sent against the Falisci, who had been making their accustomed incursions upon the Roman territories. His usual good fortune attended him in this expedition, he routed their army, and besieged their capital city Falerii, which threatened a long and vigorous resistance. The reduction of this little place, would have been scarce worth mentioning in this scanty page, were it not for an action of the Roman general, that has done him more credit with posterity, than all his other triumphs united. A school-master, who had the care of the children belonging to the principal men of the city, having found means to decoy them into the Roman camp, offered to put them into the hands of Camillus, as the surest means of inducing the citizens to a speedy surrender. The general was struck with the treachery of a wretch, whose duty it was to protect innocence, and not to betray it; he for some time regarded the traitor with a stern air, but at last finding words,
"Execrable villain, cried the noble Roman, offer thy abominable proposals to creatures like thyself, and not to me; what though we be the enemies of your city, yet there are natural ties that bind all mankind, which should never be broken: there are duties required from us in war, as well as in peace: we fight now not against an age of innocence, but against men. Men who have used us ill indeed, but yet, whose crimes are virtues, when compared to thine. Against such base arts, let it be my duty to use only Roman arts, the arts of valour and of arms."
So saying, he immediately ordered him to be stript, his hands tied behind him, and in that ignominious manner, to be whipped into the town by his own scholars. This generous behaviour in Camillus effected more than his arms could do; the magistrates of the town immediately submitted to the senate, leaving to Camillus the conditions of their surrender, who only fined them a sum of money to satisfy his army, and received them under the protection and into the alliance of Rome.
Notwithstanding the veneration which the virtues of Camillus had excited abroad, they seemed but little adapted to bring over the respect of the turbulent tribunes at home, as they raised some fresh accusation against him every day. To the charge of being an opposer of their intended migration from Rome to Veii, they added that of his having concealed a part of the plunder of that city, particularly two brazen gates for his own use, and appointed him a day, on which to appear before the people. Camillus finding the multitude exasperated against him upon many pretences, and detesting their ingratitude, resolved not to await the ignominy of a trial, but embracing his wife and children, prepared to depart from Rome. He had already passed as far as one of the gates, unattended on his way, and unlamented. There however, he could suppress his indignation no longer, but turning his face to the Capitol, and lifting up his hands to heaven, he entreated all the gods, that his country might one day be sensible of their injustice and ingratitude, and so saying, he past forward to take refuge at Ardea, a town at a little distance from Rome, where he afterwards learned, that he had been fined fifteen hundred asses by the tribunes at Rome.
The tribunes were not a little pleased with their triumph over this great man, but they soon had reason to repent their injustice, and to wish for the assistance of one, who alone was able to protect their country from ruin. For now a more terrible and redoubtable enemy began to make its appearance, than the Romans had ever yet encountered: the Gauls, a barbarous nation, had about two centuries before made an irruption from beyond the Alps, and settled in the northern parts of Italy. They had been invited over by the deliciousness of the wines, and the softness of the climate. Wherever they came, they dispossest the original inhabitants, being men of extraordinary stature, fierce in aspect, barbarous in their manners, and prone to emigration. Not content with having subdued and peopled most of the northern parts of Italy, they were still inviting others from their native desarts beyond the Alps, to come over, and spread terror and desolation in the fruitful regions of this new discovered country. A body of these, wild from their original habitations, were now besieging Clusium, a city of Etruria, under the conduct of Brennus, their king. The inhabitants of Clusium frighted at their numbers, and still more at their savage appearance, entreated the assistance, or at least, the mediation of the Romans. The senate, who long had made it a maxim, never to refuse succour to the distressed, were willing, previously to send ambassadors to the Gauls, to dissuade them from their enterprize, and to shew the injustice of their irruption. Accordingly, three young senators were chosen out of the family of the Fabii, to manage the commission, who seemed rather fitter for the field than the cabinet. Brennus received them with a degree of complaisance, that argued but little of the barbarian, and desiring to know the business of their embassy, was answered according to their instructions, that it was not customary in Italy, to make war, but upon just grounds of provocation, and that they desired to know, what offence the citizens of Clusium had given to the king of the Gauls? To this Brennus sternly replied, that the rights of valiant men lay in their swords; that the Romans themselves, had no other right to the many cities they had conquered; and that he had particular reasons of resentment against the people of Clusium, as they refused to part with those lands, which they had neither hands to till, nor inhabitants to occupy. The Roman ambassadors, who were but little used to bear the language of a conqueror, for a while, dissembled their resentment at this haughty reply, but, upon entering the besieged city, instead of acting as ambassadors, forgetful of their sacred characters, they headed the citizens in a sally against the besiegers. In this combat, Fabius Ambustus killed a Gaul with his own hand, but was discovered, while he was despoiling him of his armour. A conduct so unjust and unbecoming, excited the resentment of Brennus, who having made his complaint by an herald, to the senate, and finding no redress, immediately broke up the siege, and marched away with his conquering army directly to Rome.
The countries through which the Gauls passed, in their rapid progress, gave up all hopes of safety upon their approach, being terrified at their vast numbers, the fierceness of their natures, and their dreadful preparations for war. But the rage and impetuosity of this wild people were directed only against Rome. They went on without doing the least injury in their march, still breathing vengeance only against the Romans.
Six military tribunes at that time commanded the Roman army: the number of their forces, which amounted to forty thousand men, was nearly equal to those of Brennus, but the soldiers were less obedient, and the generals had neither subordination to assist, nor confidence to unite each other. The two armies met beside the river Allia, eleven miles from the city, both equally confident of victory, both equally dreading to survive a defeat. The leaders on either side put their forces in array; the Romans, to prevent being surrounded, extended their lines, and placed their best legions in the wings of their army. The Gauls, on the other hand, by an happy disposition, had their choicest men in the middle, and with these they made the most desperate attack. The centre of the Roman army, unable to withstand the impetuosity of the charge, quickly gave way, while the two wings saw themselves in a manner divided from each other, and their centre occupied by the enemy. They made, for a time, a feeble attempt to join each other, but finding it impracticable, a rout ensued, in which the Romans seemed to have lost all power, not only of resistance, but of flight. Nothing but terror and blind confusion reigned through their scattered troops; the wretched remains of their army, either were drowned in attempting to cross over the Tyber, or went to take refuge in Veii, while a few of them returned to Rome, with the dreadful account of their country's overthrow. All hopes being now over, the few remaining inhabitants that were able to bear arms, threw themselves into the Capitol, which they fortified, in order to hold out a siege. The rest of the people, a poor, helpless multitude of old men, women and children, endeavoured to hide themselves in some of the neighbouring towns, or resolved to await the conqueror's fury, and end their lives with the ruin of their native city. But more particularly, the ancient senators, and priests, struck with a religious enthusiasm, on this occasion, resolved to devote their lives to atone for the crimes of the people, and habited in their robes of ceremony, placed themselves in the Forum, on their ivory chairs. The Gauls, in the mean time, were giving a loose to their triumph, in sharing and enjoying the plunder of the enemies camp; had they immediately marched to Rome upon gaining the victory, the Capitol itself had been taken; but they continued two days feasting upon the field of battle, and with barbarous pleasure, exulting amidst their slaughtered enemies. On the third day after the victory, the easiness of which much amazed the Gauls, Brennus appeared with all his forces before the city. He was at first much surprized to find the gates wide open to receive him, and the walls defenceless, so that he began to impute the unguarded situation of the place, to a stratagem of the Romans. After proper precautions however, he entered the city, and marching into the Forum, there beheld the ancient senators sitting in their order, observing a profound silence, unmoved and undaunted▪ The splendid habits, the majestic gravity, and the venerable looks of these old men, who had all, in their time, borne the highest offices of the state, awed the barbarous enemy into reverence; they took them to be the tutelar deities of the place, and began to offer blind adoration, till one, more forward than the rest, put forth his hand to stroak the beard of Papyrius, whom we have already seen enjoying the dignity of dictator. This insult the noble Roman could not endure, but lifting up his ivory scepter, struck the savage to the ground. This seemed as a signal for general slaughter. Papyrius fell first, and all the rest shared his fate, without mercy or distinction. Thus the fierce invaders pursued their slaughter for three days successively, sparing neither sex nor age, and then setting fire to the city, burnt down every house to the ground.
All the hopes of Rome were now placed in
U. C.
364
the Capitol, every thing without that fortress, was but an extensive scene of misery, desolation and despair. All the magnificent buildings, which were once the pride of Rome, were now become an heap of shapeless ruin. Nor was it the city alone that felt the utmost rage of the conquerors, but all the neighbouring towns that were accessible to their incursions, shared the same fate, and were burnt without compassion. Still however, the citadel remained, and Brennus tried every art to reduce it into his power; he first summoned it, with threats, to surrender, but in vain; he then resolved to besiege it in form, and hemmed it round with his army. The Romans however, repelled his attempts with great bravery, despair had supplied them with that perseverance and vigour, which they seemed to want when in prosperity.
The siege had now continued for above six months, the provisions of the garrison were almost exhausted, their numbers lessened with continual fatigue, and nothing seemed to remain but death, or submitting to the mercy of the conquerors, which was worse even than death itself. They had resolved upon dying, when they were revived from their despondence, by the appearance of a man whom they saw climbing up the rock, and whom they knew upon his arrival, to be a messenger from their friends abroad. This messenger's name was Pontius Comminus, who had swam across the Tyber by night, passed through the enemies guards, and with extreme satigue, climbed up the Capitoline rock, with tidings to the besieged, that Camillus, their old dictator, was levying an army for their relief; that he had already surprized a body of the Gauls in one of their excursions, and had cut them off to a man; that the citizens of Ardea and Veii had armed in his favour, and had made him their general, and that he only awaited their confirmation of the choice, to enter the field, and give the barbarians battle. The Romans were struck with a mixture of rapture and confusion, to find that the man whom they had formerly spurned from the city, was now, in its desperate state, become its defender. They instantly chose him for their dictator, and prepared to sustain the siege with recruited vigour. Thus the messenger having received his answer and proper instructions, returned the way he came, not without encountering the utmost difficulties.
In the mean while, Brennus carried on the siege with extreme ardour, he hoped in time to starve the garrison into a capitulation; but they, sensible of his intent, although they were in actual want, caused several loaves to be thrown into his camp, to convince him of the futility of such expectations. His hopes failing in this, were soon after revived, when some of his soldiers came to inform him, that they had discovered some foot-steps which led up to the rock, and by which they supposed the Capitol might be surprized. Accordingly, a chosen body of his men were ordered by night upon this dangerous service, which they with great labour and difficulty almost effected: they were now got upon the very wall; the Roman centinel was fast asleep; their dogs within gave no signal, and all promised an instant victory, when the garrison was awaked by the gaggling of some sacred geese, that had been kept in the temple of Juno. The besieged soon perceived the imminence of their danger, and each snatching the weapon he could find instantly,
an to oppose the assailants. Manlius, a patrician of acknowledged bravery, was the first who exerted all his strength, and inspired courage by his example. He boldly mounted the rampart, and at one effort, threw two Gauls headlong down the precipice: others soon came in to his assistance, and the walls were cleared of the enemy, in a space of time shorter than the description.
From this time forward, the hopes of the barbarians began to decline, and Brennus wished for an opportunity of raising the siege with credit. His soldiers had often conferences with the besieged, while upon duty, and the proposals for an accommodation were wished for by the common men, before the chiefs thought of a congress. At length the commanders on both sides came to an agreement, that the Gauls should immediately quit the city and territories of Rome, upon being paid a thousand pound weight of gold. This agreement being confirmed by oath on either side, the gold was brought forth, but upon weighing, the Gauls attempted fraudulently to kick the beam, of which the Romans complaining, Brennus insulting, cast his sword and belt into the scale, crying out, that the only portion of the vanquished was to suffer. By this reply, the Romans saw that they were at the victor's mercy, and knew it was vain to expostulate against the conditions he should be pleased to impose. But in this very juncture, and while they were thus debating upon the payment, it was told them, that Camillus, their dictator, was at the head of a large army, hastening to their relief, and entering the gates of Rome. Camillus accordingly, appeared soon after, and entering the place of controversy, with the air of one who was resolved not to suffer imposition, he demanded the cause of the contest, of which being informed, he ordered the gold to be taken and carried back to the Capitol,
"for it has ever been, cried he, the manner with us Romans to ransom our country, not with gold, but with iron; it is I only that am to make peace, as being the dictator of Rome, and my sword alone shall purchase it."
Upon this, a battle ensued, in which the Gauls were entirely routed, and such a slaughter followed, that the Roman territories were soon cleared of their formidable invaders.
The enemy was now vanquished, but Rome continued an heap of ruins; no part of its former magnificence remained, except the Capitol, and the greatest number of its former inhabitants had gone to take refuge in Veii. The tribunes of the people therefore, these men unheard of but in the calm of peace, began once more to urge for the removal of the poor remains of Rome to Veii, where they might have houses to shelter, and walls to defend them. On this occasion, Camillus was steady to his former principles: he attempted to appease them, with all the arts of persuasion; observing, that it was unworthy of them, both as Romans and as men, to desert the venerable seats of their ancestors, where they had been encouraged by repeated marks of divine approbation, to remove to and inhabit a city which they had conquered, and which wanted even the good fortune of defending itself. By these and such like remonstrances, he prevailed upon the people to go contentedly to work, and Rome soon began to rise from its ashes, though with diminished beauty.
These successes of Camillus were in some measure, but preparatory to future victories. He was made dictator the next year, upon an irruption
U. C.
369
of the neighbouring states, and gained another triumph, and about three years after, overthrew the Latins, who had revolted from Rome, after an obedience of more than an hundred years continuance. These successes served to render Camillus almost absolute in Rome▪ his moderation and patriotism however, prevented his making a wrong use of his power, unless we may consider his conduct with regard to Manlius Capitolinus, as an act of severity.
We have already seen the bravery of Manlius in defending the Capitol, and saving the last remains of Rome. For this the people were by no means ungrateful, having built him an house near the place, where his valour was so conspicuous, and having appointed him a publick fund for his support. But his ambition was not to be satisfied with such trifling rewards; he still aspired at being not only equal to Camillus, but to be sovereign of Rome. With this view he laboured to ingratiate himself with the populace, paid their debts, and railed at the patricians, whom he called their oppressors. The senate was not ignorant of his discourses or his designs, and created Cornelius Cossus dictator, under pretext of sending him against the Volscians, who had made some successful irruptions into the Roman territories, but in reality, with a view to curb the ambition of Manlius. The dictator soon finished his expedition against the foreign enemy, by a victory, and upon his return, called Manlius to an account, and put him in prison, for his conduct at home. Manlius however, was too much the darling of the populace, to be affected by the power of Cossus; his partizans were too loud in their clamours, to permit any injury to be done to their favourite. Cossus was obliged to lay down his office, and Manlius was carried from confinement in triumph. This success only served to enflame his ambition. He now began to talk of a division of the lands among the people; he now insinuated, that there should be no distinctions in the state, and to give weight to his discourses, he always appeared at the head of a large body of the dregs of the people, whom his largesses had made his followers. The city being thus filled with sedition and clamour, the senate were obliged to have recourse to another expedient, and to oppose the power of Camillus to his. Camillus accordingly being made one of the military tribunes, appointed Manlius a day to answer for his life. The place in which he was tried was near the Capitol, where, when he was accused of sedition, and aspiring at sovereignty, he only turned his eyes thither, and pointing, put them in mind of what he had done for his country there. The multitude, whose compassion or whose justice seldom spring from rational motives, refused to condemn him, while he pleaded in sight of the Capitol; but when he was brought from thence to the Peteline grove, and where the Capitol was no longer to be seen, they condemned him to be thrown headlong from the Tarpeian rock. Thus, the place which had been the theatre of his glory, became that of his punishment and infamy. His house, in which his conspiracies had been secretly carried on, was ordered to be razed to the ground, and his family were forbid ever after to assume the name of Manlius.
The death of Manlius, in some measure, renewed the murmurs of the tribunes and the people against Camillus, whom they considered as the chief instrument of his prosecution: ever unwilling to suppose themselves guilty of a severity to which they had given their consent, they began to turn their resentment upon the most worthy man of the state, as if to aggravate their baseness. However, Camillus was never, as it should seem, to want an opportunity of bringing them back to their veneration for him. Being chosen military tribune a sixth time, though much against his consent, he, with his colleague Lucius, marched against the Volscians; Lucius, all eagerness to engage the enemy, Camillus tempering his courage with moderation. This backwardness for the attack, Lucius ascribed to the timidity of old age, or the envy of a man unwilling to participate his fame: he therefore took the opportunity, when Camillus was sick, and obliged to keep his bed, to lead on his forces to the attack. But he too soon perceived the temerity of his conduct, his army was almost defeated, and an universal flight was going to ensue, when Camillus rouzed from his bed, and being helped on horse-back, old and infirm as he was, he put himself at the head of a small body of men, opposing those that fled, and bringing them once more furiously up against their pursuers. The intrepidity of one man spread itself through the whole army, his soldiers quickly rallied, resolving never to forsake a general, under whom they had so often fought with victory. The enemy being thus repulsed, the combat was renewed the day following, in which they were totally defeated, and Camillus returned to Rome once more loaden with the spoils of conquest. But
U. C.
372
conquests abroad seemed only new occasions for dissensions at home, for the debtors began to complain of their hardships as formerly. The inhabitants of Praeneste, a town belonging to the Latins, also made incursions upon the Roman territories; to quell these internal and external grievances, Quintius Cincinnatus was chosen dictator, who took Praeneste by surrender, and returned in triumph, with the statue of Jupiter Imperator, which he placed in the Capitol, a circumstance, which though of little seeming importance, first excited the desire of extending conquest among the Romans.
U. C.
375
Two years after this, the contests between the patricians and tribunes broke out with more than usual violence. Many of the plebeians, during the distresses of their country, had either by accident or courage acquired large fortunes, and this produced a desire of sharing, not only in the government, but the honours of Rome. The people, as we have seen, had before this aspired at the consulship, and the senate, as has been related, by a trifling subterfuge, granted them military tribunes, which were possessed of consular power; but this it seems was not sufficient to satisfy their pride, the tribunes of the people now therefore renewed their claims, while the poorer part of the citizens, only intent upon acquiring the necessaries of life, and but little touched with its honours, were calm spectators of the contest: they only wanted something to strike the imagination, in order to interest them in the cause, and this at last offered. Fabius Ambustus, a tribune of the people, had two daughters, one of whom he married to a patrician, the other to a plebeian. The plebeian's wife coming one day to visit her sister, was struck with envy at the honours which the latter received, in consequence of her patrician alliance, and from envying fell into a settled melancholy. Her father and husband, for a long time, conjured her to tell them the reasons of this alteration in her disposition, which she at last unwillingly revealed. The father, though himself a patrician, to comfort his daughter, was prevailed upon to give her assurances, that he would instantly use every means in his power, to make her an equal sharer in the dignities of the state, with her sister, and not to be deficient in his promise, from that time consulted with her husband about preferring a law, for making one consul out of the body of the people. Their first step was to get the husband elected a tribune of the people, and then, in order to ingratiate themselves with the multitude, they proposed, with the same law which made pretensions to the consulship, that the Agrarian law, for the equal partition of lands, should also be passed; a measure, which they knew, must give popularity to their ambition. The contests in consequence of this proposal were so violent, that for five
U. C.
377. to 382.
years, no supreme magistrate was chosen, the tribunes of the people, and aediles governing all the time, if that might be called government, which was little better than anarchy and confusion. The military tribunes then came into government, and after two years were elapsed in this manner, Camillus was chosen
dictator, who finding the people resolute in their designs of chusing a plebeian consul, laid down his office. Upon his resignation, another dictator was chosen by the senate; but this high office had been now so often created where there was no absolute necessity, that its authority began to decline, while that of the tribunes rose upon its ruins. This dictator's name was Manlius Capitolinus: he seems to have little remarkable in his conduct, if we except his creating Licinius Stolo, his master of the horse, who was the first plebeian who enjoyed that dignity. Stolo was the first also who caused a law to be passed, that no man should possess above five hundred acres of land, which was greatly disadvantageous to the patricians; but what is still more particular, he was soon after found desirous of privately possessing more land, than by his own law he was entitled to share, and in consequence thereof, was punished by his own edict.
In this manner the flame of contention was carried on between the two orders of the state, with acrimony and perseverance, while foreign enemies only served to allay, but not to extinguish it. Another invasion of the Gauls to oppose whom, Camillus was a fifth time made dictator, for a time repressed and gave a transient pause to these internal commotions. The dread of this people was so great among the Romans then, that a law was made, that priests should be excused from all wars, unless in an invasion of the Gauls. However, Camillus taught his countrymen the way to subdue them. Being sensible that the chief weapon of this fierce people was the sword, he furnished his soldiers with iron helmets, and had their targets bound round with brass, and at the same time, taught them the art of using their own arms to the best advantage. By these means he rendered the swords of the Gauls so unserviceable, that giving them battle near the river Anio, he gained an easy victory, so that the Romans now began to despise the Gauls, and wonder at their own former pusillanimity.
A victory like this, it might be supposed, would have rendered Camillus absolute at Rome. But it seems, that whether from his advanced age, or the encreasing power of the tribunes, he had by this time fallen even from the share of authority he was once possessed of. The
U. C.
38
law for creating a plebeian consul being still agitated with encreasing animosity, the senate as usual strongly opposed it, forbidding Camillus to lay down his dictatorship, in hopes, that under the influence of his power, they might be able to support their honour against the pretensions of the people. In consequence of this, while Camillus was one day sitting upon his tribunal, dispatching public affairs, the tribunes ordered, that the votes of the people should be taken upon their favourite measure, and upon the dictator's opposing, they sent a lictor to arrest and conduct him to prison. Such a mark of indignity offered to a magistrate who had been hitherto held sacred, raised a greater commotion than had been hitherto seen in Rome. The patricians who stood round the dictator▪ boldly repulsed the lictors, while the people who stood below, with equal fury cried out, Down with him, Down with him. In this universal uproar, Camillus was the only person that seemed unmoved. He entreated that the tribunes would give a moment's pause to their attempts; then calling the senators round him, and conducting them to a neighbouring temple, he entreated them to give peace to the city, by their compliance; then turning his face towards the Capitol, as if to take a last farewel of all future endeavours to serve his country, he vowed to build a temple to Concord, in case he saw peace restored to the people. In consequence of his advice, a law was made, that one of the consuls, for the future should be chosen from the plebeians. Sextius, who had long been a turbulent tribune of the people, was the first plebeian consul that was chosen. After him succeeded Licinius, the husband of her whom we have already mentioned as languishing with the desire of dignity. There were also at this time, two new magistrates created from among the patricians; namely, a Praetor, who was to supply the place of consul in the absence of that magistrate, and to administer justice to the people, in civil and criminal cases; an officer so necessary to the state, that the number of praetors was, in after ages, encreased to sixteen. There were also two Curule Aediles created, officers so called to distinguish them from the aediles of the people, the former having the chair and other ensigns of magistracy attending them, which the latter were denied. Their chief business was to have the care of the great and public games, and of the corn and provisions taken in war. Thus Camillus, having spent a long life, being now above eighty, in the service of his country, throughout which having shewn a courage not to be shaken by danger, and a patriotism, which even the ingratitude of the people could not alter, laid down the dictatorship, and built a temple to Concord, according to his vow, which however he survived but two years, dying of the plague, and leaving behind him the reputation of being the second founder of Rome.
It was in vain however, that measures were taken to ensure a lasting reconciliation between the patricians and the people: their disputes revived upon every occasion, for whenever new magistrates were to be chosen, each party trying all their interest to have the election in their own favour, hesitated not to use both fraud and violence to compass their desires. Thus the senate suspended all measures against the foreign enemy, lest the plebeian consul, newly elected, should come in for a share of the glory. Thus also the people soon after obtained, by their complaints, to have the curule aediles chosen, every second year, out of their own body, and even at length prevailed to have Marcus Rutilius, a plebeian, made dictator.
U. C.
39
To balance this, the year following, the patricians took away the consulship from the people, after they had enjoyed it ten years, and four years after, they were obliged to restore it. The election of a censor produced equal animosity, and after many contests, the plebeian, who had been dictator, was elected to the office, against the united endeavours of the patricians.
During these contests at home however, we are not to suppose, that the Romans were unemployed, or unsuccessful in their foreign wars. They obtained a signal victory over the Hernici, so that Claudius Crassinus, the dictator, had
the honour of an ovation allowed him by the senate. They obtained another over the Gauls, and Quintus Pennus, the dictator, returned with
a triumph. Two succeeding victories were gained over the same people by two different dictators, namely, Servilius Ahala, and Sulpicius Deticus, who both triumphed in their turn. We read of two other dictators, namely, Manlius Torquatus, and Caius Julius, who being created without any great necessity, did little, and consequently served to lessen the authority of the dictatorship. We read of a fourth triumph over the Gauls by Furius Camillus, who was created dictator to oppose them. The Arunci also, a people beyond the Volsci, made some incursions, but were repulsed by Camillus, who was created dictator a second time for that purpose.
Nor were dictators created only for thus repelling the sudden incursions of the enemy, but for much more trifling purposes; in the times of a plague we find one created, namely, Manlius Capitolinus, merely to drive a nail, as a means of putting a stop to the contagion. This unimportant business he executed with great ceremony, driving it on the right side of Jupiter's temple, into the Capitol. Two dictators
also were successively chosen, merely to held the Comitium or assembly of the people, for a new election of consuls; Furius Camillus and Manlius Torquatus being chosen for these unimportant purposes.
In this manner therefore, the Romans went gradually forward, with a mixture of turbulence and superstition within their walls, and successful enterprizes without. Their contentions at home making their wars abroad less painful and fatiguing, naturally produced in them a turn to military glory. Their superstition also served as an help to their progress, for when the bonds of authority no longer prevailed, the priests were always sure to hold the people by the ties of religion. What an implicit obedience they placed in their pontiffs, we have already seen in many instances, and how far they might be impelled, even to encounter death itself, at their command, will
evidently appear from the behaviour of Curtius, about this time, who, upon the opening of a gulph in the Forum, which the gods indicated would never close up, till the most precious thing in Rome was thrown into it, leaped with his horse and armour instantly into the midst, saying, that nothing was more truly valuable than patriotism and military virtue. The gulph, say the historians, closed immediately upon him, and he was never seen more. Such a spirit of religion, and so many advantages by following war, had extended their dominions already above double what they were in the times of the kings. However, their principal actions hitherto were against their nearest neighbours, in which they chiefly acted upon the defensive; but we are shortly to behold another scene, where their ambition catches fire, and is not appeased, till the limits of the world itself seems to put bounds to the conflagration.
CHAP. XIV. From the wars of the Samnites and the wars with Pyrrhus, to the beginning of the first Punic war, when the Romans first went out of Italy.
WE are now come to that period, when all the peculiar privileges of patricians were but an empty name, and when wealth chiefly made distinction. The state has appeared hitherto an obscure, unnoted commonwealth, formidable only to the petty nations round it, and struggling less for conquest, than self-preservation. But the Romans having now triumphed over the Sabines, the Etrurians, the Latins, the Hernici, the Aequi and the Volscians, began to look for greater conquests. They accordingly turned their arms against the Samnites, a people about an hundred miles east from the city.
The Samnites were an hardy nation, descended from the Sabines, inhabiting a large tract of southern Italy, which at this day makes a considerable part of the kingdom of Naples. They were equally powerful both in numbers and discipline, with the Romans, and had like them, confederated states to assist them. Two such aspiring neighbours, both equally fond of arms and living by war, could not long want a pretext for a rupture. The pretended occasion of this was, that the Samnites had oppressed the Sidicini, who being too weak to manage the war alone, called in the Campanians to their assistance, who also being overthrown, implored the assistance of Rome. The senate for some time, to give a colour of justice to their ambition, seemed to defer granting aid against the Samnites, as being their friends and allies: but the importunate entreaties of the Campanian ambassadors, and the offers of the rich luxurious country which they inhabited, and still more, the refusal of the Samnites to desist from ravaging a country which the Romans considered as their own, determined them to undertake the war. Valerius Corvus and Cornelius were the two consuls, to whose care it first fell to manage this dreadful tontention between rival states, that for the space of sixty years after deluged Italy with blood. Valerius was one of the greatest commanders in his time; he was surnamed Corvus, from a strange circumstance of being assisted by a crow in a single combat, in which he fought and killed a Gaul of a gigantic stature. To his colleague's care it was consigned to lead an army to Samnium, the enemies capital, while Corvus was sent to relieve Capua, the capital of the Campanians. Never was captain more fitted to his soldiers, than he. To an habit naturally robust and athletic, he joined the gentlest manners; he was the fiercest, and yet the most good-natured man in the army, and while the meanest centinel was his companion, no man kept them more strictly to their duty; but what completes his character, he constantly endeavoured to preserve his dignities, by the same arts with which he gained them. Such soldiers as the Romans then were, hardened by their late adversity, and led on by such a general, were unconquerable. The Samnites were the bravest men they ever yet encountered, and the contention between them was managed on both sides with the most determined resolution. But the fortune of Rome prevailed; the Samnites at length fled, averring, that they were not able to withstand the fierce looks and the firedarting eyes of the Romans. The other consul however, was not at first so fortunate, for having unwarily led his army into a defile, he was in danger of being cut off, had not Decius, a tribune in the army, possessed himself of an hill which commanded the enemy, so that the Samnites being attacked on either side, were defeated with great slaughter, not less than thirty thousand of them being left dead in the field of battle.
Soon after, the inhabitants of Capua requested to have a Roman garrison to winter there, to secure them from the insults of the Samnites. Their desire was accordingly complied with, but Capua was ever noted for being the destroyer of military discipline, and for enervating its protectors. It offered so many delights, and gratified so largely all the softer passions, that the Roman garrison began to lose not only their courage, but their virtue. They formed a design of destroying the inhabitants, and taking the town to themselves. This design they communicated to their companions in other parts of the country, and they as readily embraced the proposal. At length however, it came to the notice of the officers, who detesting so much baseness, led the legions into the field, and kept them in action, in order to prevent their returning to their former designs. But notwithstanding the care of the general and officers, the soldiers finding themselves liable to the severest punishments for their late perfidious schemes, began to mutiny, and uniting themselves into one body, marched directly forward for Rome. For some time they were without a leader, no man being bold enough, or base enough to head an army, whose confederating principle was treachery. At length they forced Quintius, an old and eminent soldier, who was then residing in the country, to be their leader, and conducted by their rage, more than their general, came within eight miles of the city. So terrible an enemy, almost at the gates, not a little alarmed the senate, who immediately created Valerius Corvus, dictator, and sent him forth with another army to oppose them. The two armies were now drawn up against each other, while fathers and sons beheld themselves prepared to engage in opposite causes. Any other general but Corvus might have brought this civil war to an extremity, but he knowing his influence among the soldiery, instead of going forward to meet the mutineers in an hostile manner, went with the most cordial friendship to embrace his old acquaintance.
"I have had, cried he, my friends, opportunities enough of shewing my valour in war, I now only want to acquire reputation by making peace. You cannot distrust me, my friends, or think Valerius Corvus can ever be severe, who never yet got one law enacted in the senate, that was contrary to your interests. You cannot think he will be severe, whose austerities were ever practised only upon himself. But whatever you do, I am resolved to behave as becomes me; if I draw my sword, it shall not be till you have drawn yours first; if blood must be shed, you shall begin the slaughter. But whom will you destroy? Not your enemies, not the Samnites or the Volscians, but your fathers, brothers, children, countrymen, and in the view of these very mountains that gave you birth and education together. But let it not be so. You, Quintius, if indeed you are the commander of this shameful expedition, have only to ask with reason, and we will grant with mercy."
The whole army seemed assected with this speech. Quintius, as their speaker, only desired to have their defection from their duty forgiven; and as for himself, as he was innocent of their conspiracy, he had no reason to sollicit pardon for any offence. Thus, this defection, which at first threatened such dangers to Rome, was repaired by the prudence and moderation of a general, whose ambition it was to be gentle to his friends, and formidable only to his enemies. The mutineers were once more received into favour, and the dictator having no further employment abroad, laid down his office.
U. C.
411
In the mean while, as the war with the Samnites was for some time carried on with various success, a peace was concluded, which seemed so offensive to the Latins and the Campanians, that it induced them to revolt. The former carried their demands so far as to insist, that one of the consuls and half the senate should be chosen out of their body, before they would submit to think of peace. The Romans at first tried by gentle means to turn them from their purpose; but they insisted upon it still more resolutely, ascribing the lenity of Rome to its fears. In order therefore to chastize them, the two consuls, Manlius Torquatus, and his colleague, Decius Mus, were sent by the senate to invade their country. However, the Latins were not remiss in their preparations for a defence, so that the two armies met with equal animosity, and a bloody and obstinate battle ensued. In this battle, the strict discipline of the Romans, and their amazing patriotism were displayed, in a manner that has excited rather the wonder, than the admiration of posterity. As the Latins and Romans were a neighbouring people, and their habits, arms, and language were the same, the most exact discipline was necessary, to prevent confusion in the engagement. Orders therefore were issued by Manlius the consul, that no soldier should leave his ranks upon whatever provocation, and that he should be certainly put to death, who offered to do otherwise. With these injunctions, both armies were drawn out in array, and ready to begin, when Metius, the general of the enemies cavalry, pushed forward from his lines, and challenged any knight in the Roman army, to single combat. For some time there was a general pause, no soldier offering to disobey his orders, till Titus Manlius, the consul's son, burning with shame, to see the whole body of the Romans intimidated, boldly singled out against his adversary. The soldiers on both sides, for a while, suspended the general engagement, to be spectators of this fierce encounter. The two champions drove their horses against each other with great violence: Metius wounded his adversary's horse in the neck, but Manlius, with better fortune, killed that of Metius. The Latin being thus fallen to the ground, for a while attempted to support himself upon his shield, but the Roman followed his blows with so much force, that he laid him dead, as he was endeavouring to rise, and then despoiling him of his armour, returned in triumph to the consul, his father's tent, where he was preparing and giving orders relative to the engagement. Howsoever he might have been applauded by his fellow soldiers, being as yet doubtful of the reception he should find from his father, he came with hesitation, to lay the enemy's spoils at his feet, and with a modest air insinuated, that what he did, was entirely from a spirit of hereditary virtue. But he was soon dreadfully made sensible of his error, when his father, turning away, ordered him to be led publickly forth before the army. Here being brought forward, the consul, with a stern countenance, and yet with tears, spoke as follows,
"Titus Manlius, as thou hast regarded neither the dignity of the consulship, nor the commands of thy father, as thou hast destroyed military discipline, and set a pattern of disobedience by thy example, thou hast reduced me to the deplorable extremity of sacrificing my son or my country. But let us not hesitate in this dreadful alternative, a thousand lives were well lost in such a cause; nor do I think, that thou thyself will refuse to dye, when thy country is to reap the advantage of thy sufferings. Go, Lictor, bind him, and let his death be our future example."
The whole army was struck with horror at this unnatural mandate; fear, for a while, kept them in suspense, but when they saw their young champion's head struck off, and his blood streaming upon the ground, they could no longer contain their execrations, and their groans. His dead body was carried forth without the camp, and being adorned with the spoils of the vanquished enemy, it was buried with all the pomp of military distress.
In the mean time, the battle joined with mutual fury, and as the two armies had often fought under the same leaders, they combated with all the animosity of a civil war. The Latins chiefly depended on their bodily strength, the Romans on their invincible courage and conduct. Forces so nearly matched, seemed only to require the protection of their deities, to turn the scale of victory, and in fact, the augurs had foretold, that whatever part of the Roman army should be distrest, the commander of that part should devote himself for his country, and die as a sacrifice to the immortal gods. Manlius commanded the right wing, and Decius led on the left. Both sides fought for some time with doubtful success, as their courage was equal; but, after a time, the left wing of the Roman army began to give ground. It was then that Decius, who commanded there, resolved to devote himself for his country, and to offer his own life, as an atonement to save his army. Thus determined, he called out to Manlius with a loud voice, and demanded his instructions, as he was the chief Pontiff, how to devote himself, and the form of the words he should use. By his directions therefore, being cloathed in a long robe, his head covered, and his arms stretched forward, standing upon a javelin, he devoted himself to the celestial and infernal gods, for the safety of Rome. Then being armed and on horseback, he drove furiously into the the midst of the enemies, carrying terror and consternation wherever he came, till he fell covered with wounds. In the mean time, the Roman army considered his devoting himself in this manner, as an assurance of success: nor was the superstition of the Latins less powerfully influenced by his resolution, a total route began to ensue, the Romans pressed them on every side, and so great was the carnage, that scarce a fourth part of the enemy survived the defeat. This was the last battle of any consequence, that the Latins had with the Romans; they were forced to beg a peace upon hard conditions, and two years after, their strongest city Paedum being taken, they were brought into an entire submission to the Roman power.
The Samnites however, were still unconquered; a peace had been made with them some time before, which neither side seemed long inclined to preserve. Their giving assistance to the Campanians, who had formerly begged the protection of the Romans against them, and now entreated theirs against Rome, renewed a war, which, though intermitted by various treaties and suspensions, was to end only with the ruin of the state. For some time indeed, the fate of either nation seemed uncertain, for though the Samnites were in general worsted, a signal disgrace which the Romans sustained
about this time, made a pause in their usual good fortune, and turned the scale for a while, in the enemies favour. The senate having denied the Samnites peace, Pontius, their general, was resolved to gain by stratagem, what he had frequently lost by force. Accordingly, leading his army to a defile, called Claudium, and taking possession of all its outlets, he sent ten of his soldiers, habited like shepherds, with directions to throw themselves in the way the Romans were to march. Exactly to his wishes, the Roman consul met them, and taking them for what they appeared, demanded the route the Samnite army had taken: they, with seeming indifference replied, that they were gone to Luceria, a town in Apulia, and were then actually besieging it. The Roman general not suspecting the stratagem that was laid against him, marched directly by the shortest road, which lay through the defiles, to relieve the city, and did not find himself deceived, till he saw his army surrounded, and blocked up on every side. The Samnites having the Roman army at this great disadvantage, immediately sent off to Herennius, their general's father, for instructions how to proceed. The old crafty Samnite, who knew the disposition of the Romans, and that a fierce enemy was either to be entirely vanquished or entirely won, advised his son, either indiscriminately to the sword, or to dismiss them all without shame or injury; urging at the same time, that one of these two ways was absolutely necessary; the first would incapacitate them from future annoyance, the last would lay them under an obligation, which they could never remove. This counsel, though the most prudent that could be imagined, was rejected; a middle way was taken, which only served to exasperate the Romans, but not to subdue them. Pontius first obliged their army to pass under the yoke, having been previously stript of all but their under garments; he then stipu
ated, that they should wholly quit the territories of the Samnites, and that they should continue to live upon terms of former confederacy. The Romans were constrained to submit to this ignominious treaty, and marched into Capua disarmed, half-naked, and burning with a desire of retrieving their lost honour. When the army arrived at Rome, the whole city was most surprisingly afflicted at their shameful return. Nothing but fury and revenge appeared on every face, while the consuls, who were the unfortunate instruments of their disgrace, refused to appear abroad, or to perform the necessary functions of their office. A dictator was chosen, who had no opportunity of acting; he laid down his office, and the state continued for some time without any supreme magistrate at its head; nothing but grief and resentment was to be seen, and the whole city was put into mourning.
But this was but a transitory calamity, the state had suffered a diminution of its glory, but not of its power; it only therefore sought an opportunity of breaking a compact, which the army had made merely by compulsion. The two consuls who had entered into this treaty offered themselves up to the enemy, as being the only persons that could be called to account: but Pontius who justly observed, that the lives of two men were not an equivalent for those of an army, refused to receive the forfeit, and sent them back, greatly exclaiming against the perfidiousness of Rome. The war was now therefore renewed, and the Samnites overthrown in several battles, the Romans serving them, as they themselves had been treated before. These successes produced a truce of two years, which when expired, the war was carried on as usual, for many years; the power of the Samnites declining every day, while the Romans gathered fresh confidence from every victory. Under the conduct of Papyrius Cursor, who was at different times consul and dictator, repeated triumphs were gained. Fabius Maximus also had his share in the glory of conquering them, and Decius, the son of that Decius, whom we have seen devoting himself for his country, about forty years before, followed the example of his noble father, and rushing into the midst of the enemy, saved the lives of his countrymen by the loss of his own. It may seem indeed strange, how the Samnites could so long continue to make head against the Roman power, but we must consider, that they were aided by all the little states round them, who were either attached to them by interest, or united by a jealousy of Rome's growing greatness. Thus the Tarentines, the Lucani, the Thurini, and all the southern states of Italy, by turns, sent assistance, which for a while checked the progress of the conquerors. But their stop was of short duration: both they, as well as the Samnites, after repeated defeats, saw themselves at last stripped of their cities, and the greatest part of their country: they saw themselves, at the end of a long war, quite exhausted, near two hundred thousand of their bravest men being killed in battle. In this distress, as the Italian states were unable to defend themselves, they were obliged to call in the assistance of a foreign power, and had recourse to Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, to save them from impending ruin.
Pyrrhus, a king of great courage, ambition and power, had always kept the example of Alexander, his great predecessor, before his eyes: he was reckoned the most experienced general of his time, and commanded a body of troops, then supposed to be the best disciplined of all the nations round them. The Romans were now therefore no longer to combat with a tumultuary force, raised in times of exigence, and depending on their courage alone for victory: they were to oppose an army levied amongst the most polished people then existing, formed under the greatest generals, and led on by the most noted commander of his time. Pyrrhus, as was said, having been applied to for succour by the Tarentines, who in the name of all the declining states of Italy, conjured him to save them from the threatening distress, promised to come to their assistance. In the mean time he dispatched over a body of three thousand men, under the command of Cineas, an experienced soldier, and a scholar of the great orator Demosthenes. Nor did he himself remain long behind, but soon after put to sea with three thousand horse, twenty thousand foot, and twenty elephants, in which the commanders of that time began to place very great confidence. Only a small part however, of these great preparations arrived in Italy with him, for many of his ships were dispersed, and some totally lost in a tempest. Upon his arrival at Tarentum, his first care was to reform the people he came to succour; for observing a total dissolution of manners in this luxurious city, and how the inhabitants were rather occupied with the pleasures of bathing, feasting, and dancing, than in preparing for war; he gave orders to have all their places of public entertainment shut up, and that they should be restrained in all these amusements that render soldiers unfit for battle. He attempted to repress their licentious manner of treating their governors, and even summoned some who had mentioned his own name with ridicule, to appear before him. However, he was prevented from punishing them by their ingenuous manner of confessing the charge.
"Yes, cried they, we have spoken all this against you, and would have said still more, but that we had no more wine."
But though he forgave them with a smile, he took the most prudent precautions to guard himself against their well-known insincerity; sending his son out of the city, and removing all those he suspected most forward to promote sedition. In the mean time, the Romans did all that prudence could suggest, to oppose so formidable an enemy, and the consul Laevinus was sent with a numerous army to interrupt his progress. Wherefore Pyrrhus, though his whole army was not yet arrived, drew out to meet him, but previously sent an ambassador, desiring to be permitted to mediate between the Romans and the people of Tarentum. To this Laevinus returned for answer, that he neither esteemed him as a mediator, nor feared him as an enemy, and then leading the ambassador through the Roman camp, desired him to observe diligently what he saw, and report the result to his master.
War being thus determined on either part, both armies approaching, pitched their tents in sight of each other, upon the opposite banks of the river Lyris. Pyrrhus was always extremely careful in directing the situation of his own camp, and in observing that of the enemy. It was here, that walking along the banks of the river, and surveying the Roman method of encamping,
"These barbarians, cried he, turning to one of his favourites, seem to me to be no way barbarous, and I fear, we shall too soon find their actions equal to their resolution."
However, ordering a body of men along the banks of the river, he placed them in readiness to oppose the Romans, in case they should attempt to ford it before his whole army was brought together. Things turned out according to his expectations; the consul, with an impetuosity that marked his inexperience, gave orders for passing the river, where it was fordable, and the Epirean advanced-guard having attempted to oppose him in vain, were obliged to retire to the main body of their army. Pyrrhus being apprized of the enemies attempt, at first hoped to cut off their cavalry, before they could be reinforced by the foot, that were not as yet got over, and led on in person a chosen body of horse against them. It was on this occasion, that he shewed himself equal to his great reputation: he was constantly seen at the head of his men, leading them on with spirit, yet directing them with calmness; at once performing the office of a general, and the duty of a common soldier, he shewed the greatest presence of mind joined to the greatest valour. He was chiefly conspicuous by the nobleness of his air, and the richness of his armour, so that wherever he appeared, the throng of the battle was gathered round him. In the midst of the engagement his horse happening to be killed under him, he was obliged to change armour with one of his attendants, and go to another part of the combat, that required his immediate presence. Mean while, the Roman knights mistaking this attendant for the king himself, levelled all their attempts that way, and at last slew him, and carried his armour to the consul. The report being spread through both armies, that the king was slain, the Greeks were struck with a general panic, and the Romans began to assure themselves of victory. But Pyrrhus in the instant came bareheaded into the van, and repeatedly crying out, that he still lived, he inspired his soldiers with new vigour. At length the Roman legions had advanced across the river, and the engagement was become general; the Greeks fought with a consciousness of their former fame, and the Romans with a desire of gaining fresh glory: mankind had never before seen two such differently disciplined armies opposed to each other, nor is it to this day determined, whether the Greek phalanx or the Roman l
gion were preferable. The combat was long in suspense; the Romans had seven times repulsed the enemy, and were as often driven back themselves, but at length, while the success seemed doubtful, Pyrrhus sent his elephants into the midst of the engagement, and these turned the scale of victory in his favour. The Romans had never before seen creatures of such magnitude, they were terrified not only with their intrepid fierceness, but with the castles which were built upon their backs, filled with armed men; they considered them, rather as prodigies sent to destroy, than as animals trained up to subdue them. But not only the men, but the horses shared in this general consternation, neither enduring the smell nor the cries of these formidable creatures, but throwing their riders, they filled the ranks with confusion. It was then that Pyrrhus saw the day was his own, and sending in his Thessalian cavalry to charge the enemy in disorder, the rout became general. A dreadful sla
ghter of the Romans ensued, fifteen thousand men being killed on the spot, and eighteen hundred taken prisoners. Nor were the conquerors much in a better state than the vanquished, Pyrrhus himself being wounded, and thirteen thousand of his forces slain. Night coming on put an end to the slaughter on both sides, and Pyrrhus was heard to cry out, that one such victory more would ruin his army. The next day, as he walked to view the field of battle, he could not help regarding with admiration, the bodies of the Romans which were slain: upon seeing them all with their wounds before, their countenances, though even in death, marked with noble resolution, and a sternness that awed him into respect; he was heard to cry out in the true spirit of a military adventurer,
"O with what ease could I conquer the world, had I the Romans for soldiers, or had they me for their king."
The Romans were highly pleased with this politeness in an enemy, but still more with his civil treatment, and his courtesy to the prisoners he had taken; complaisance to the captives, was a degree of refinement the Romans were yet to learn from the Greeks; but it was only sufficient to shew this brave people an improvement, either in morals or war, and they immediately set about imitation.
The Romans, though defeated, were still unconquered, they again began to use all necessary diligence to recruit their army, and to oppose the conqueror, who joined by the southern states of Italy, was marching directly towards Rome. However, he was still unwilling to drive them to an extremity, and finding them making great preparations, he considered, that it was best treating with an enemy after having gained a victory over them; he resolved therefore to send his friend Cineas, the orator, to negotiate, and use all his arts to induce them to peace. He had long reposed great confidence in the abilities and persuasive powers of this scholar of Demosthenes, and often asserted, that he had won more towns by the eloquence of Cineas, than by his own arms. The old crafty Grecian readily undertook the embassy, and entering Rome, began his negotiation, by attempting to influence not only the senators, but even their wives, by presents which he said were sent them by his master. This however, was the age of Roman virtue; the senators refused to accept these bounties, which they considered as bribes to betray their country, and the women were not behind their husbands in their noble disinterestedness. They bade him give back to his master those allurements to treason, adding, that they would then only accept his offers, when the senate had considered whether they should ac
pt his terms of peace. Never was there a tim
n which all the military and patriotic virtues s
ne with greater lustre than now. The senators
ing by a late law, as has been related, reduced their fortunes more nearly to a level with those of the people, began to seek distinction from virtue only, and despised those riches which could not be encreased so as to place them at a distance from the vulgar. Thus Cineas, with all his art, found the Romans impracticable, either by bribery or private persuasion: finding therefore, these methods ineffectual, he proceeded to his commission more publickly, and was, at his request, introduced to the senate. Here he began by extolling his master's courage and clemency; his desire of patronizing the brave, and his particular esteem for the Romans. He proceeded to inculcate the blessings of peace, and the fine opportunity the senate then had of restoring it. He offered, in his master's name, to return all that had been lately taken in battle, without ransom; to give assistance to the Romans on any future occasion; and all that was asked in return, was their alliance and friendship, together with permission to have the Tarentines included in the treaty. These offers, and still more the orator's eloquence appeared to touch the whole assembly; a general inclination seemed to prevail in favour of the king's proposal, and a peace was confidently talked of in every part of the city. In this juncture, Appius Claudius, an old senator, who was now grown blind with age, and had long discontinued public business, caused himself to be carried into the house in a litter. The surprize of seeing him in the senate again, and numberless infirmities which he appeared to surmount in coming, awed the whole assembly into silence and attention.
"I have l
ng," cried he, raising himself from his couch, "considered my blindness and my infirmities as evils; thought that heaven had been willing to punish my old age, for the faults I had committed when young, and had repaid a youth of folly with an age of pain, but now, conscript fathers, I find that I have been peculiarly indulged in what I considered as calamities, since my loss of sight has hindered me from seeing the late dishonour of my country. Nay, might I make a wish, it should be for deafness also, and then I should no longer hear of what must now excite indignation in the breast of every virtuous Roman. How different are you now from what you were some years ago! Alexander, whom the world has called Great, was then thought nothing of in Rome; we then universally ascribed his conquests not to his valour but his fortune. You then wished that the tide of war might have brought him into Italy, only to shew the world your own superior prowess. But how are you fallen at present! You then wished to combat with the conqueror of Greece, and now you fear to engage one of those states which he actually conquered. You desired to cope with Alexander, and yet you refuse to meet one who has left his native country, rather through a fear of his ancient enemies, than a desire of finding new. We have therefore but this alternative, either boldly to meet Pyrrhus in the field, or to be content to suffer all the contempt the neighbouring states of Italy shall throw upon us, and thus by endeavouring to avoid one war, engage ourselves in an hundred."
This speech was received with universal approbation; the assembly grew warm in the praises of their rough old orator, and the smooth orations of Cineas were heard no more. Being therefore unable to make any progress in his embassy, he was dismissed with an answer intimating, that when Pyrrhus should withdraw his forces from Italy, that then the Senate would treat with him concerning peace.
Cineas being thus frustrated in his expectations, returned to his master, extolling both the virtues and the grandeur of the Romans. The senate, he said, appeared a reverend assembly of demi-gods, and the city a temple for their reception. Of this Pyrrhus soon after became sensible, by an embassy from Rome, concerning the ransom and exchange of prisoners. At the head of this venerable deputation was Fabricius, an ancient senator, who had long been a pattern to his countrymen of the most extreme poverty, joined with the most chearful content. This practical philopher, who had been formerly consul, and was now the ambassador of Rome, had no other plate furniture in his house, except a small cup, the bottom even of which was of horn. His daughters being without fortunes, the senate generously portioned them from the public treasury. When the Samnites had formerly offered him large presents, he refused them, saying, that he was already rich, as he had learned the art of lessening his wants by retrenching his appetites. Pyrrhus received this celebrated old man with great kindness, and willing to try how far fame had been just in his favour, offered him rich presents, which however the Roman refused; the day after, he was desirous of examining the equality of his temper, and ordered one of his elephants to be placed behind the tapestry, which upon a signal given, raised its trunk above the ambassador's head, at the same time using other arts to intimidate him. Fabricius however, with a countenance no way changing, smile▪ upon the king, observing, that he looked wit
an equal eye on the terrors of this day, as h
had upon the aliurements of the preceding
Pyrrhus pleased to find so much virtue in on
he had considered as a barbarian, was willin
to grant him the only favour which he kne
could make him happy. He released the Roman prisoners, intrusting them to Fabricius alone, upon his promise, that in case the senate were determined to continue the war, he might reclaim them whenever he thought proper.
By this time the Roman army was recovered
U. C.
474
from its late defeat, and Sulpicius and Decius, the consuls for the following year, were placed at its head. The panic which had formerly seized it from the elephants, now began to wear off, and the generals, with great assiduity, applied themselves to imitate the discipline of Pyrrhus, and the Grecian method of encampment. It was in this manner they always adopted the improvements of other nations, and learned by defeat the power of becoming invincible. Both armies met near the city Asculum, both pretty nearly equal in numbers, being about forty thousand strong. Pyrrhus found himself incommoded by a woody country, that prevented his phalanx and elephants from being so serviceable as in the plain, he therefore continued for some time rather upon the defensive, until night should give him time to make a more advantageous disposition. The next morning he caused a detachment of his cavalry to possess themselves of the upper grounds, and thus force the enemy into the plain, which when they had successfully effected, he brought down his elephants into the thickest of the fight, and mixing his slingers and archer
among them, formed a body that the Romans were scarce able to resist; besides, not having the advantages of advancing and retreating, as the day before, the battle became close and general. The Roman legions at first were unable to pierce the Greek phalanx, but at length, careless of their own lives, they made a desperate slaughter among them. In fine, after a long and obstinate fight, the Grecian discipline prevailed, and the Romans being pressed on every side, particularly by the elephants, were obliged to retire to their camp, leaving six thousand men dead upon the field of battle. But the enemy had no great reason to boast of their triumph, as they had four thousand slain, so that Pyrrhus replied to one of his soldiers who was congratulating him upon his victory,
"one such triumph more, and I shall be undone."
Nor was he unjust in the assertion, as by this time, the greatest part of those forces which had followed him from home were destroyed, and his friends and generals were mostly cut off.
This battle finishing the campaign, the next season began with equal vigour on both sides. Pyrrhus having received new succours from home, while old Fabricius, who was made consul with Aemilius, led on the Romans, no way discouraged by their former defeat. While the two armies were approaching, and yet but a small distance from each other, a letter was brought to Frabricius from the king's physician, importing, that for a proper reward, he would take him off by poison, and thus rid the Romans of a powerful enemy and a dangerous war. Fabricius felt all the honest indignation at this base proposal, that was consonant with his former character, he communicated it to his colleague, and instantly gave it as his opinion, that Pyrrhus should be informed of the treachery that was plotted against him. Accordingly, letters were dispatched for that purpose, informing Pyrrhus of his unfortunate choice of friends and enemies. That he had trusted and promoted villains, while he carried his resentment against the generous and the and the brave. Pyrrhus now began to find that these bold barbarians were by degrees schooling into refinement, and would not suffer him to be their superior even in generosity: he received the message with equal amazement at their candour, and indignation at his physician's treachery.
"Admirable Fabricius! cried he, it would be as easy to turn the sun from its course, as thee from the paths of honour."
Then making the proper enquiry among his servants, and having discovered the treason, he ordered his physician to be executed. However, not to be outdone in magnanimity, he immediately sent to Rome all his prisoners without ransom, and again desired to negotiate a peace. The Romans, on the other hand, refused him peace, but upon the same conditions as they had offered before, and released as many of the Samnites and Tarentines as equalled the number of the prisoners they had received. The king was a good deal astonished at the Roman obstinacy; he appeared divided between shame and necessity, his circumstances obliging him in some measure, to discontinue the war, while his honour was hurt in being compelled to leave it unfinished. However, an invitation from the Sicilians, begging relief against the Carthaginians, who had possessed their island, and treated them cruelly, relieved him from his embarrassment. This expedition promissed more rewards and less labour, and such were the chief objects of this military rambler's attention. He therefore placed a garrison in Tarentum, much against the inclination of the inhabitants, and then sending his friend Cineas before him, followed with all the rest of his forces to relieve Sicily.
In the mean time, the Samnites and Tarentines being left to the mercy of the Romans, continued to sollicit him with the most earnest supplications, to return to protect them. Pyrrhus, whom his successes in Sicily had for some time made deaf to their entreaties, was, after a lapse of two years spent in ineffectual victory, glad to have a specious pretext to leave this country also, as he had formerly left Italy. He therefore, with some difficulty, once more returned to Tarentum, at the head of twenty thousand foot and three thousand horse. The Romans, though pressed by so formidable a power as that of Pyrrhus, had not yet forgotten the ancient animosity between the orders of the state, and upon a levy being set forward to form an army to oppose him, several of the people refused to enlist. In order to repress a sedition which threatened nothing less than the destruction of the empire▪ the consuls resolved to act with spirit, and accordingly commanded that the names of the citizens should be drawn by lot, and that he who first refused to take the field, should be sold as a slave. This timely severity had its effect, and whenever after any man refused to enlist when called upon, he was instantly treated by the consuls in that manner. Having thus raised a sufficient body of forces, the consuls divided their army into two parts▪ and marched into the enemies country, one into Lucania, and the other among the Samnites. Pyrrhus having encreased his his army also by new levies, and being informed of this, divided his forces also, and sent one part to oppose the march of Lentulus, while he himself went to attack Curius Dentatus, before his colleague could come up. His principal aim was to surprize the enemy by night, but unfortunately passing through woods, and his lights failing him, his men lost their way, so that at the approach of morning, they saw themseves in sight of the Roman camp, with the enemy drawn out ready to receive them. The vanguard of both armies soon met, in which the Romans had the advantage. Soon after a general engagement ensuing, Pyrrhus finding the ballance of the victory turning still against him, had once more recourse to his elephants. These however, the Romans were now too well acquainted with, to feel any vain terrors from, and having found, that fire was the most effectual means to repel them, they caused numbers of balls to be made, composed of flax and rosin, which were thrown against them as they approached the ranks. The elephants thus rendered furious by the flame, and as boldly opposed by the soldiers, could no longer be brought on, but ran back on their own army, bearing down their ranks, and filling all places with terror and confusion. Thus victory at length declared in favour of Rome: Phrrhus in vain attempted to stop the flight and the slaughter of his troops; he lost not only twenty-three thousand of his best soldiers, but his camp was also taken. This served as a new lesson to the Romans, who were ever open to improvement: they had formerly pitched their tents without order, but by this, they were taught to measure out their ground, and fortify the whole with a trench, so that many of their succeeding victories may be ascribed to their improved method of encamping.
In the mean time, while the two consuls were entering triumphant into Rome, Pyrrhus bore his defeat with unbroken courage; his first care was to secure a retreat, and then to keep up the spirits of his ailies, with promises of better success for the future. This he old till he had tried the utmost of what his interest could do, to furnish out another campaign. However, finding all hopes of that fruitless, he resolved to leave Italy, where he had found only desperate enemies and faithless allies. Accordingly, calling together the Tarentines, he informed them, that he had received assurances from Greece, of speedy assistance, and desiring them to expect the event with tranquillity: the night following he embarked his troops, and returned undisturbed into his native kingdom, with the remains of his shattered forces; first leaving a garrison in Tarentum, merely to save appearances. In this manner ended the war with Pyrrhus, after six years continuance. Thro' the whole of this, we find the Romans acting a nobler part than in any former period, endeavouring to join the politeness of Greece to the virtuous austerity of their own manners. A spirit of frugality, contempt of wealth, and virtuous emulation had spread itself over the whole senate. Fabricius not only brought poverty into fashion by his example, but punished all approaches to luxury, by his authority as a magistrate. About this time, in the censorship of Fabricius, Ruffinus, who had been twice a consul and once a dictator, was turned out of the senate, and had a mark of infamy put upon his name, for no other offence, than being possessed of ten pound of silver plate for the use of his table. By this love of temperance, and these successes in war, though the individuals were poor, the public was rich; the number of citizens also was encreased to above two hundred thousand men, capable of bearing arms, and the fame of the Roman name was so far extended, that Ptolomy Philadelphus, king of Egypt, sent ambassadors to congratulate their success, and to entreat their alliance. As for the poor luxurious Tarentines, who were the original promoters of this war, they soon began to find a worse enemy in the garrison that was left for their defence, than in the Romans who attacked them from without. The hatred between them and Milo, who commanded their citadel for Pyrrhus, was become so great, that nothing but the fear of their old inveterate enemies the Romans, could equal it. In this distress they applied to the Carthaginians, who with a large fleet came and blocked up the port of Tarentum; so that this unfortunate people, who once were famous through Italy for their refinements and pleasures, now saw themselves contended for by three different armies, while they were not even left the choice of a conqueror. At length, however, the Romans found means to bring over the garrison to their interest, after which, they easily became masters of the city, and demolished its walls, granting the inhabitants liberty and protection.
CHAP. XV. From the beginning of the first Punic war to the beginning of the second, when the Romans began to grow powerful by sea.
THE Romans had now destroyed all rival
U. C.
489
pretensions in Italy; the Tarentines, the Samnites, the Lucanians were now no more, or patiently took laws from the conquerors. Their victory over Pyrrhus not only gave them reputation abroad, but kindled an ambition for foreign conquest. They began also to know, though not to practise the refinements of the Greeks and Tarentines, whom they had conquered; the number of their husbandmen diminished, while, as in all states becoming opulent, their artizans and gentry continually encreased. The environs of the city were now therefore no longer able to furnish their growing numbers with corn, and supplies were brought from the kingdoms abroad. Of these, Sicily sent by far the greatest proportion, so that the people began secretly to wish for the possession of a country, which had for some time served as the granary of Rome. To minds predisposed for conquest, a pretext to begin is seldom wanting. The Carthaginians were at that time in possession of the greatest part of Sicily, and, like the Romans, only wanted an opportunity of embroiling the natives, in order to become masters of the whole island. This opportunity had now offered; Hiero, king of Syracuse, one of the states of the Island as yet unconquered, entreated their aid against the Mamertines, a little people of the same country, and they sent him supplies both by land and sea. The Mamertines, on the other hand, to shield off impending ruin, put themselves under the protection of Rome. The Romans however, not thinking the Mamertines worthy of the name of allies, instead of professing to assist them, boldly declared war against Carthage, alledging as a reason, the assistance which Carthage had lately lent to the southern parts of Italy against the Romans. In this manner a war was declared between these two powerful states, who were both grown too great to continue patient spectators of each others encrease.
Carthage, a colony of the Phaenicians, was built on the coast of Africa, near the place where Tunis now stands, about an hundred and thirty-seven years before the foundation of Rome. As it had been long growing into power, so it had extended its dominions all along the coasts, and was in possession also of many of the principal Islands in the Mediterranean sea. But its chief strength lay in its fleets and commerce; by these its riches were become immense, and by their money alone, they were capable of hiring and sending forth armies to conquer or to keep their neighbours under subjection. However, as they had now been long in possession of affluence, the state began to feel the evils that wealth is too apt to produce; for as at Rome, public employments were made the reward of virtue only, and superior honour only raised to a preference of toils, so in Carthage, the several offices which the state had to bestow, were venal, and those who purchased them, only aimed at being reimbursed by all the sordid arts of peculation. Thus unequally matched, these two great powers began what was called the first Punic war; the Carthaginians possessed of gold and silver, which might be exhausted; the Romans of perseverance, patriotism, and poverty, which seemed to gather strength by every defeat.
As the Romans had been hitherto shut up in their own dominions, they had but little knowledge of the method of transporting an army by sea. Appius Claudius was the first, who by means of a feeble fleet, or, as some will have it, a raft of timber, carried over a small body of forces into Sicily, where victory, as usual, was still attendant upon the fortune of Rome. A league made with Hiero, king of Syracuse, soon after the consul's arrival, began to inspire the Romans with hopes of expelling the Carthaginians from the Island, and becoming masters of it in their turn. But still there seemed an unsurmountable obstacle to their ambitious views; they had no fleet, or at least what deserved that title, while the Carthaginians being masters of a very powerful one, had the entire command at sea, and kept all the maritime towns under their obedience. In such a situation, any people but the Romans, would have rested contented, under disadvantages which nature seemed to have imposed, but nothing could conquer or intimidate them. They began to apply themselves to maritime affairs, and though without shipwrights to build, or seamen to navigate a fleet, yet they resolved to surmount every obstacle with inflexible perseverance. A Carthaginian vessel happened to be in a storm driven ashore, and this was sufficient to give the Romans hopes of building vessels, that might one day control the long established naval power of the Carthaginians. Accordingly, they diligently set about imitating this ship, which was in itself, little better than a wreck, building an hundred and twenty more according to the model before them. But now, although they had something like a fleet, which though clumsy and ill adapted for sailing, was of some force, they still wanted sailors to manage it. As for the Romans themselves, being bred up to husbandry, they were perfectly ignorant of maritime affairs; and the neighbouring states whom they had lately conquered, were either unwilling to embark, or not to be relied on. In this exigence, they taught their men to row upon land, instructing them in the naval manner of engaging, as well as they could, leaving it to their native valour to do the rest. The consul Duillius was the first who ventured to sea with this new constructed armament; but he soon however, found, that the enemy was every way superior in point of sailing, and bringing on their vessels to an engagement. But the indefatigable spirit of the Romans was not to be subdued; he found out a remedy even here, by inventing an instrument, which, upon an impulse of two ships, kept them both grappled together, so that neither could separate, until courage had decided the victory. By this, a naval engagement became more like one at land; so that when the two rival fleets met, the Romans had the victory, the Carthaginians losing fifty of their ships, and the undisturbed sovereignty of the sea, which they valued more. These successes were so unexpected by the senate, that Duillius their admiral obtained a signal triumph, with orders, that whenever he went out to supper, there should be a band of music to attend him.
In the mean time, the contest was carried on by land in Sicily with various success, the Romans, as well as their enemies, having sometimes the worst of the campaign. But the conduct of both nations, during the continuance of this war, was manifestly different. The Carthaginians appeared always murmuring against their generals and admirals, and sometimes punished them with death, for want of success. The Romans went on still contented and persevering, and seemingly as easy under a defeat, as happy when victorious. Their chief successes during the latter part of the war in Sicily, were owing to the conduct and courage of their consul Regulus, who subdued the islands Lippara and that of Melita, so celebrated at this day for being the residence of the knights of Malta. The city of Agrigentum in Sicily, and of Alberia in Corsica, were also attached to the conquests of Rome.
But these trifling successes were by no means sufficient to gratify the sanguine expectations of the people; for though the Carthaginians were sometimes defeated even at sea, yet they still continued most powerful there, and sent in supplies to the island at pleasure. The conquest therefore of Sicily, was only to be obtained by humbling the power of Carthage at home. For this reason, the senate resolved to carry the war into Africa itself, and accordingly they sent Regulus and Manlius, with a fleet of three hundred sail, to make the invasion. Regulus was reckoned the most consummate warrior, that Rome could then produce: he was a professed example of frugal severity, but less austere to others than to himself; he only reprehended those faults, which he would have died rather than have committed: his patriotism was still greater than his temperance; all the private passions seemed extinguished in him, or they were all swallowed up in one great ruling affection, the love of his country. The two generals set sail with their fleet, which was the greatest that had ever yet left an Italian port, carrying an hundred and forty thousand men. They were met by the Carthaginians, with a fleet as powerful, and men better used to the sea. While the fight continued, rather between the ships than the men, at a distance, the Carthaginians seemed successful; but when the Romans came to grapple with them, the difference between a mercenary army, and one that fought for fame, was apparent. The resolution of the Romans was crowned with success; the enemies fleet were dispersed, and fifty-four of their vessels taken. The consequence of this victory was an immediate descent upon the coasts of Africa, and the capture of the city Clupea, together with twenty thousand men who were made prisoners of war.
The senate being informed of these great successes, and applied to for fresh instructions▪ commanded Manlius back to Italy, in orde
to superintend the Sicilian war, and directed that Regulus should continue in Africa, to prosecute his victories there, but as his consulship was expiring, they continued him their general under the title of Proconsul. Happy in the approbation of his country, Regulu
continued his successes, and led his forces along the banks of the river Bagrada. Here, whil
he was waiting for the approach of the Carthaginians, a serpent of enormous size attacke
his men as they went for water, and seemed a
if resolved to guard the banks of the river. I
was an hundred and twenty feet long, wit
scales impenetrable to any weapon. Some o
the boldest troops at first went up to oppose it
fury, but they soon fell victims to their rashness, being either killed by its devouring jaws, or crushed to pieces by the windings of its tail. The poisonous vapour that issued from it, made it still more formidable, and the men were so much terrified at its appearance, that they asserted, they would much more joyfully have faced the whole Carthaginian army. For some time it seemed uncertain which should remain masters of the river, as from the hardness of its scales, no ordinary efforts could drive it away. At last, Regulus was obliged to make use of the machines employed in battering down the walls of cities. Notwithstanding, the serpent, for a long time, withstood all his efforts, and destroyed numbers of his men; but at length, a very large stone which was flung from an engine, happened to break its spine, and destroyed its motion: by these means the soldiers surrounded and killed it. Regulus, not less pleased with his victory than if he had gained a battle, ordered its skin to be sent to Rome, where it continued to be seen till the times of Pliny.
Mean while, the Carthaginians finding the Romans proceeding towards their very capital, brought out a considerable army to oppose them. A battle ensued, in which Carthage was once more defeated, and some of its best troops were cut off. This fresh victory contributed to throw them into the utmost despair; more than eighty of their towns submitted to the Romans. The Numidians, their ancient allies, rose against them at the same time, and combined to ravage the country. The peasants who fled on every side, flocked into Carthage, as to the only place of refuge, and brought with them only misery and famine. In this distress, the Carthaginians, destitute of generals at home who had abilities to oppose the conqueror, were obliged to send to Lacedemon, offering the command of their armies to Xantippus, a commander of great experience, who undertook to conduct them. They, at the same time, dispatched some of the principal men of the state to Regulus to beg a peace. The Roman general had long wished to terminate the war, and go back to his native country. He had even sent to the senate some time before, demanding a successor, and leave to return, in consequence of an account he had received, informing him, that his steward who cultivated his estate, which consisted but of seven acres, was dead, and that his servant had stolen all the instruments of husbandry that were used in its cultivation. He informed the senate, that while he was leading on the armies of the state, his wife and children were in danger of wanting bread; and that his little domestic affairs required his presence at home. The senate upon this, ordered a sufficient maintenance for his wife and children; furnished his estate with proper instruments of husbandry, at the public expence, and gave him orders to continue at the head of the army. When the Carthaginians therefore sent proposals of peace, he was very much inclined to come to treaty; but in some measure, considering himself as master of Carthage, he thought it was his duty to dictate the terms. These were, that Carthage should give up all the cities they were possessed of in Sicily and Sardinia; that they should deliver up all their prisoners without reward, and at the same time, ransom those that were made of their own. These and some other conditions of the same nature were offered, but the Carthaginians thinking them too rigid, the treaty broke off, and both sides prepared for war.
Xantippus, the Lacedemonian general, was arrived by this time, and gave the magistrates proper instructions for levying their men: he assured them, that their armies were hitherto overthrown, not by the strength of the enemy, but the ignorance of their own generals: he therefore only required a ready obedience to his orders, and assured them of an easy victory. The whole city seemed once more revived from despondence, by the exhortations of a single stranger, and soon, from hope, grew into confidence. This was the spirit the Grecian general wished to excite in them, so that when he saw them thus ripe for the engagement, he joyfully took the field. The forces on both sides were but few; the Carthaginian army consisting only of twelve thousand foot, and four thousand horse; those of the Romans, of about the same, or rather a superior number. The first circumstance which alarmed Regulus, was to find the enemy alter their plan of encampment, and make a new choice of their ground. They had hitherto chosen the most woody and unequal places, where their cavalry were embarrassed, and their elephants utterly unserviceable. They now continually kept in the open country, and so harrassed the Roman army, that at length, Regulus was obliged to descend into the plain, and cross the river to give them battle. The Lacedemonian made the most skillful disposition of his forces; he placed his cavalry in the wings, he disposed the elephants at proper intervals, behind the line of heavyarmed infantry, and bringing up the light-armed troops before, he ordered them to retire through the line of infantry, after they had discharged their weapons. This was a most masterly disposition, and such as was useful to the Romans in succeeding engagements, though it was fatal to them in this. For now both armies engaging, after a long and obstinate resistance, the Romans were overthrown with dreadful slaughter, the greatest part of their army being destroyed, and Regulus himself taken prisoner. A victory so great and unexpected, filled the streets of Carthage with ungovernable joy; they could never sufficiently satisfy themselves with gazing on the conqueror, though he was but small of stature, and of a very mean appearance. But this disposition was but of short continuance, for soon their admiration was turned into envy. They could not bear to owe to a stranger that safety, which they wanted abilities and virtue to procure for themselves. Xantippus however, who knew their malignity, and who never much prided himself upon their barbarous praise, was desirous of lessening their malevolence, by removing the cause: he therefore requested permission to return home, and desired a ship for that purpose. Their ingratitude on this occasion, if historians say true, was even more shocking than their former antipathy, for pretending to furnish him with the most honourable conveyance, the mariners had private orders to throw him and his companions overboard, lest the honour of obtainnig so great a victory should be taken from them, to be ascribed to a stranger.
However this may be, the affairs of the Carthaginians, for some time, went on to improve, while those of Rome seemed to be declining. The remains of the Roman army were besieged in Clupea, a city on the coasts of Africa, which Regulus had taken, and though it was for a while relieved by means of a naval victory, under the conduct of Aemilius Paulus; yet they were obliged to evacuate the place. Soon after the Romans lost their whole fleet in a storm; and Agrigentum, their principal town in Sicily, was taken by Karthalo, the Carthaginian general. The Romans, not easily to be deterred, undertook to build a new fleet, which also shared the fate of the former: the mariners as yet unacquainted with the Mediterranean shores, drove it upon quicksands; and soon after, the greatest part perished in a storm. Thus distressed in every naval attempt, they, for a while, gave up all hopes of rivalling the Carthaginians at sea, and placed all their hopes in the conquest of Sicily, which they in a great measure effected. Mean time, the Carthaginians being now more successful than when they had formerly made proposals of peace, were desirous of a new treaty, hoping to have better terms than those insisted upon before. They therefore resolved to send to Rome to negotiate this business, or at least to procure an exchange of prisoners. For this purpose they supposed, that Regulus, whom they had now for four years kept in a dungeon confined and chained, would be a proper sollicitor. It was expected, that being wearied with imprisonment and bondage, he would gladly endeavour to persuade his countrymen to a discontinuance of the war, which only prolonged his captivity. He was accordingly sent with their ambassadors to Rome, but with a promise previously exacted from him, to return in case of being unsuccessful. He was even given to understand, that his life depended upon the success of the expedition.
When this old general, together with the ambassadors of Carthage, approached Rome, numbers of his friends came out to meet and congratulate his return. Their acclamations resounded through the city, but Regulus refused with settled melancholy to enter the gates. It was in vain that he was entreated on every side to visit once more his little dwelling, and share in that joy which his return had inspired. He persisted in saying, that he was now but a slave belonging to the Carthaginians, and unfit to partake in the liberal honours of his country. The senate assembling without the walls, as usual, to give audience to the enemies ambassadors, Regulus opened his commission as he had been directed by the Carthaginian council, and their ambassadors seconded his proposals. The senate were, by this time, themselves weary of a war, which had been protracted above eight years, and were no way disinclinable to a peace. It seemed the general opinion, that the enmity between the two states had continued too long, and that no terms should be refused, which would not only give rest to the two nations, but liberty to an old general, whom the people reverenced and loved. It only remained for Regulus himself to give his opinion, who, when it came to his turn to speak, to the surprize of all the world, gave his voice for continuing the war. He assured the senate, that the Carthaginian resources were now almost exhausted; their populace harrassed out with fatigues, and their nobles with contention: that all their best generals were prisoners with the Romans, while Carthage had none but the refuse of the Roman army: that not only the interest of Rome, but its honour also was concerned in continuing the war, for their ancestors had never made peace till they were victorious. So unexpected an advice not a little disturbed the senate; they saw the justice of his opinion, but they also saw the dangers he incurred by giving it: they seemed entirely satisfied of the expediency of prolonging the war; their only obstacle was how to secure the safety of him, who had advised its continuance: they pitied, as well as admired a man who had used such eloquence against his private interest, and could not conclude upon a measure which was to terminate in his ruin. Regulus however, soon relieved their embarrasment by breaking off the treaty, and rising in order to return to his bonds and confinement. It was in vain that the senate and all his dearest friends entreated his stay, he still repressed their solicitations. Maria his wife, with her little children, filled the city with her lamentations, and vainly entreated to be permitted to see him: he still obstinately persisted in keeping his promise, and though he was sufficiently apprized of the tortures that awaited his return, without embracing his family, or taking leave of his friends, he departed with the ambassadors for Carthage. Nothing could equal the fury and the disappointment of the Carthaginians, when they were informed by their ambassadors, of Regulus, instead of hastening a peace, having given his opinion for continuing the war. First, his eyelids were cut off, and then he was remanded to prison. He was, after some days, brought out and exposed with his face opposite the burning sun. At last, when malice was fatigued with studying all the arts of torture, he was put into a barrel stuck full of nails that pointed inwards, and in this painful position he continued till he died.
Both sides now took up arms with more than former animosity. The Romans, who were inflexible in their purposes, although they had so many times been wrecked at sea, and had lost such numbers of their bravest troops there, once more fitted out a fleet, and again bid defiance to Carthage. It seemed however, as if fortune was resolved to drive them from this unstable element, for by the bad conduct of Claudius Pulcher their consul, and by other various disasters, their fleet was destroyed like all the former, and the Romans seemed drained of every resource to furnish out a new one. In consequence of this, they were obliged to abstain for seven years from all naval preparations. But their spirit was not to be broken, they yet again resolved to build another fleet, and to try their wayward fortune in forming a naval power. At length, their perseverance was crowned with success, one victory followed on the back of another. Fabius Buteo the consul shewed them the way, by defeating a large squadron of the enemies ships; but Lutatius Catulus gained a victory still more complete, in which the power of Carthage seemed totally destroyed at sea, by the loss of an hundred and twenty ships, according to the smallest computation. This loss brought them to sue for peace, which Rome thought proper to grant; but still inflexible in its demands, exacted the same conditions which Regulus had formerly offered at the gates of Carthage. These were, that the Carthaginians should lay down a thousand talents of silver, to defray the charge of the war; and should pay two thousand, two hundred more, in ten years time: that they should quit Sicily, with all such islands as they possessed near it: that they should never make war against the allies of Rome, or come with any vessels of war within the Roman dominions: and lastly, that all their prisoners and deserters should be delivered up without ransom; to these hard conditions, the Carthaginians, now exhausted, readily subscribed, and thus ended the first Punic war, which had lasted twentyfour
U. C.
513
years, and in some measure, had drained both nations of every resource to begin a-new.
CHAP. XVI. From the end of the first Punic war to the end of the second.
THE war being ended between the Carthaginians and Romans, a profound peace ensued, and in about six years after, the temple of Janus was shut for the second time, since the foundation of the city. Rome being thus in friendship with all nations, had an opportunity of turning to the arts of peace: they now began to have a relish for poetry, the first liberal art which rises in every civilized nation, and the first also that decays. Hitherto they had been entertained only with the rude drolleries of their lowest buffoons: they had sports called Fescennini, in which a few debauched actors made their own parts, while raillery and smut supplied the place of humour. To these a composition of a higher kind succeeded, which they called satire; which was a kind of dramatic poem, in which the characters of the great were particularly pointed out, and made an object of derision to the vulgar. After these, came tragedy and comedy, which were borrowed from the Greeks, and indeed, the first dramatic poet of Rome, whose
U. C.
514
name was Livius Andronicus, was by birth a Grecian. The instant these finer kinds of composition appeared, this great people rejected their former impurities with disdain. From thenceforward they laboured upon the Grecian model, and though they were never able to rival their masters in dramatic composition, they soon surpassed them in many of the more soothing kinds of poetry. Elegaic, pastoral, and didactic compositions, began to assume new beauties in the Roman language; and satire, not that rude kind of dialogue already ment oned, but a nobler sort, invented by Lucillius, was all their own.
While they were thus admitting the arts of peace, they were not unmindful of making fresh preparations for war; all intervals of ease seemed rather to give fresh vigour for new designs, than to relax their former intrepidity. The Illyrians were the first people upon whom they tried their strength, after some continuance of
peace. That nation, which had long plundered the merchants of the Mediterranean with impunity, happened to make deprad
ions upon some of the trading subjects of Rome. This being complained of to Teuta, the queen of the country, she, instead of granting redress, ordered the ambassador that was sent to demand restitution, to be murdered. A war ensued, in which the Romans were victorious. Most of the Illyric towns were surrendered to the consuls, and a peace at last concluded, by which the greatest part of the country was ceded to Rome; a yearly tribute exacted for the rest, and a prohibition added, that the Illyrians should not sail beyond the river Lissus, with more than two barks, and those unarmed.
The Gauls were the next people that incurred the displeasure of the Romans. Supposing a time of peace, when the armies were disbanded, a proper season for new irruptions: this barbarous people inviting fresh forces from beyond the Alps, and entering Etruria, wasted all with fire and sword, till they came within about three days journey of Rome. A praetor and a consul were sent to oppose them, who, now instructed in the improved arts of war, were enabled to surround the Gauls, who still retained their primaeval barbarity. It was in vain that those hardy troops, who had nothing but their courage to protect them, formed two fronts to oppose their adversaries; their naked bodies and undisciplined forces were unable to withstand the shock of an enemy completely armed, and skilled in military evolutions. A miserable slaughter ensued, in which forty thousand were killed, and ten thousand taken prisoners. This victory was followed by another gained over them by Marcellus, in which he killed Viridomarus their king, with his own hand, and gained the third royal spoils that were yet obtained at Rome. These conquests forced them to beg a peace, the conditions of which served greatly to enlarge the empire. Thus the Romans went on with success; they had now totally recovered their former losses, and only wanted an enemy worthy of their arms, to begin a new war.
An occasion soon offered to renew their military aims. The Carthaginians, who only made a peace because they were no longer able to continue the war, took the earliest opportunity of breaking the treaty: they besieged Saguntum, a city of Spain, which had been in alliance with Rome, and though desired to desist, prosecuted their operations with vigour. Ambassadors were sent, in consequence, from Rome to Carthage, complaining of the infraction of their articles, and requiring, that Hannibal the Carthaginian general, who had advised this measure, should be delivered up. This demand being refused, the ambassadors began to perceive their inclinations for a rupture, and holding out the skirt of his robe, as was the custom, told the Carthaginian ministry, that he brought them peace or war, of which they might chuse. They desired him to deliver which he thought proper; to which he returned,
"Then let it be war,"
and thus leaving the assembly, returned to Rome.
War being thus again declared between these
U. C.
536
great rival powers, the Carthaginians trusted the management of it, on their side, to Hannibal, the son of Amilcar, their former general. Hannibal had been made the sworn foe of Rome, almost from his infancy; for while yet very young, his father brought him before the altar, and obliged him to take an oath, never to be in friendship with the Romans, nor desist from opposing their power, until he or they should be no more. On his first appearance in the field, he reconciled, in his own person, the most just method of commanding, with the most perfect obedience to his superiors. Thus he was equally beloved by his generals and the troops he was appointed to lead. He was possest of the greatest courage in opposing danger, and the greatest presence of mind in retiring from it. No fatigue was able to subdue his body, or break his spirit: equally patient of heat and cold, he only took sustenance to content nature, and not to delight his appetite. His seasons for repose or labour were never marked, but he was ever ready when difficulties, or his country demanded his aid. He was frequently found stretched on the ground among his centinels, covered only with a watchcoat. His dress differed in nothing from the most ordinary man of his army, except that he affected peculiar elegance in his horses and armour. He was the best horseman, and the swiftest runner of his time. He was ever the foremost to engage, and the last to retreat; he was ever prudent in his designs, which were extensive; and ever fertile in expedients to perplex his enemies, or to rescue himself from hardships. He was experienced, sagacious, provident, and bold. Such were the admirable qualities of this inimitable soldier, who is generally allowed the greatest general of all antiquity; but on the other hand, he was cruel and faithless, without honour, without religion, and yet so deceitful, as to assume the appearance of them all: yet after all we must remember, that it is his enemies who gave him this character. From such a soldier and politician the Carthaginians formed the greatest expectations, and his taking Saguntum shortly after, confirmed them in their opinion of his abilities. But he soon gave proofs of a much more extensive genius than they could have conceived; for, having overrun all Spain, and levied a large army of various languages and nations, he resolved to carry the war into Italy, as the Romans had before carried it into the dominions of Carthage. For this purpose, leaving Hanno with a sufficient force to guard his conquests in Spain, he crossed the Pyrenean mountains into Gaul, with an army of fifty thousand foot and nine thousand horse. He quickly traversed that country, which was then wild, extensive, and filled with inimical nations. In vain its forests and rivers appeared to intimidate him; the Rhone with its rapid current, and its banks covered with enemies, or the Dura branched out into numberless channels opposed his way; he passed them all with perseverance, and in ten days arrived at the foot of the Alps, over which he was to explore a new passage into Italy. It was now in the midst of winter, when this astonishing project was undertaken; the season added new horrors to a scene, that nature had already crowded with objects of dismay. The prodigious height and tremendous steepness of the mountains, capped with snow, the rude cottages that seemed to hang upon the sides of the precipices, the cattle, and even the wild beasts themselves stiff with cold, or desperate with famine: the people barbarous and fierce, dressed in skins, with long shaggy hair, presented a picture that impressed the beholders with astonishment and terror. But nothing was capable of subduing the courage of the Carthaginian general; after having harrangued his army, he undertook to lead them up the sides of the mountain, assuring his soldiers, that they were now scaling, not the walls of Italy, but of Rome.
The soldiers in this march had not vain fears alone to combat with, but numberless and unforeseen calamities. The intenseness of the cold, the height of the precipices, the smoothness of the ice, but above all, the opposition of the inhabitants, who assailed them from above, and rolled down huge rocks upon them in their march, all contributed to dispirit the army. At length, after nine days painful march through these untrodden paths, Hannibal gained the top of the mountains, where he rejoiced his soldiers, by shewing them the charming and fertile vales of Italy, which were stretched out beneath. After two days respite, he next prepared to descend, and this was found a work of more danger, even than the former. Prodigious quantities of snow having lately f
llen, as many were swallowed up in that, as had before been destroyed by the enemy. Every new advance seemed but to encrease the danger▪ till at last, he came to the verge of a precipice above three hundred yards perpendicular, which seemed utterly unpassable. It was then that despair appeared in every face but Hannibal's, but he still remained unshaken: his first effort was to endeavour by taking a circuit, to find a more commodious passage, but finding this only encrease his difficulty, he resolved to undertake levelling the rock. For this purpose, great numbers of large trees were felled, and a mighty pile made against it and set on fire. The rock being thus heated, says Livy, was softened by vinegar, and a passage opened through which the whole army might safely pass. This seemed to be the end of the difficulties of this march, for as he descended, the vallies between the mountains became more fertile, so that the cattle found pasture, and the soldiers had time to repose. Thus, at the end of fifteen days spent in crossing the Alps, Hannibal found himself in the plains of Italy, with about half his army remaining, the rest having died, or being cut off in their march.
As soon as it was known at Rome, tha
Hannibal, at the head of an immense army. was crossing the Alps, in order to invade their dominions, the senate sent Scipio to oppose him, as a general on whom they placed great dependence. Scipio being desirous of making his principal effort, while Hannibal's army was not yet recovered from the fatigues of their march, brought up his forces, and attacked him near Ticinium. The engagement was for some time doubtful, but a party of Numidian horse wheeling round, attacked the Romans in the rear, and at last obliged them to retreat with considerable loss. The consul was wounded in the beginning of the fight, and would have fallen into the hands of the enemy, had not his son Scipio, afterwards called Africanus, opposed himself to the snock of the engagement, and saved his father's life, at the hazard of his own. Hannibal being thus victorious, took the most prudent precautions to encrease his army, giving orders to Mago, his general of the cavalry, that when he ravaged the country round, always to spare the possessions of the Gauls, while his depredations were permitted upon those of Rome. This so pleased that simple people, that they declared for him in great numbers, and flocked to his standard with alacrity.
Soon after this defeat, Sempronius, the other consul, was resolved to repair the injury sustained by his colleague, and seeing the continual defection of the Gauls, going off to encrease the strength of the Punic army, he determined to give battle the first opportunity. Hannibal was not long in delaying his expectations, and both armies met upon the banks of the river Trebia. The Carthaginian general being apprized of the Roman impetuosity, of which be always availed himself in almost every engagement, had sent off a body of a thousand horse, each with a foot-soldier behind him, across the river, to ravage the enemies country, and provoke them to engage. The Romans quickly routed this force, who seeming to be defeated, took the river, and were as eagerly pursued by the consul. It was not however, till his army was got upon the opposite bank, that he perceived himself half conquered already, his men being fatigued by wading up to the armpits, and quite benumbed by the intense coldness of the water. But it was now too late to retire, for Hannibal came pouring down his forces, fresh and vigorous, so that the battle soon became general. The courage of the Romans for a while withstood every disadvantage, and kept the victory doubtful, but they soon found themselves attacked also in the rear by a party of horse, which the Carthaginian general had laid in ambush, to be ready on this occasion. At length, a total rout ensued; twenty-six thousand of the Romans were either killed by the enemy or drowned in attempting to repass the river. A body of ten thousand men were all that survived, who finding themselves enclosed on every side, broke desperately through the enemies ranks, and fought retreating, till they found shelter in the city of Placentia.
The loss of these two battles only served to encrease the caution of Hannibal and the vigilance of Rome. Preparations for the ensuing campaign were carried on with greater vigour than before, and the Carthaginian general finding himself in a condition to change the feat of the war, resolved to approach Rome, by marching into Etruria. There were two ways for effecting his march thither; one, more tedious, but secure; the other, which was shorter, led through the marshes, caused by the overflowing of the river Arno. All the former fatigues of the Carthaginian army were nothing, compared to their suffering
here. They were forced to march three days and nights successively, up to the knees in water, without sleep or without rest; the hoofs of the horses came off in their passage, while the beasts of burthen that carried the baggage, unable to support the fatigue, were left dead in the mud. Hannibal himself riding upon an elephant, which was the only one left alive, felt all the complicated distress of his own situation, and that of his army. His health had been impaired in the preceding spring, and having then an inflammation in his eyes, he, by his present fatigues, lost one of them entirely. At last however, he arrived upon dry ground, where he was informed, that Flamminius the consul was encamped near Aricia, waiting the arrival of the other consul with reinforcements from Rome. One of Hannibal's chief excellencies in war, was the care he took to inform himself of the temper and disposition of the generals who opposed him, and finding that Flamminius was rash and overbearing, swoln with his former successes, and confident of the future, he resolved to bring him to an engagement before his colleague could come up. Seeming therefore to take no notice of his army, that lay in the direct road towards Rome, he left it on one side, and marching onward, as if to besiege the capital itself, he ravaged the whole country round in a terrible manner, with fire and sword. Flamminius, as was expected, could not tamely bear to see an insulting enemy laying every thing waste before him, but burned for the engagement. It was in vain, that he was advised by the Senate, and all about him, to use caution, and not to let the enemies insults provoke him to an unequal combat. He immediately ordered his troops to march, his friends foreboding their future danger, while the soldiers went rejoicing in the courage of their general, and indulging their hopes, rather than considering the reasons they had for hoping. Hannibal was with his army, at the time when Flamminius came out to engage him, at the lake of Thrasimene, near to which was a chain of mountains, and between these and the lake, a narrow passage leading to a valley that was embosomed in hills. It was upon these hills that he disposed his best troops, and it was into this valley that Flamminius led his men to attack him. A disposition every way so favourable for the Carthaginians, was also assisted by accident, for a mist rising from the lake, kept the Romans from seeing their enemies, while the army upon the mountains, being above its influence, saw the whole disposition of their opponents. The fortune of the day was such as might be expected from the conduct of the two generals; the Roman army was broken, and slaughtered, almost before they could perceive the enemy that destroyed them. About fifteen thousand Romans fell in the valley, and six thousand more were obliged to yield themselves prisoners of war. In this general carnage, the unfortunate Flamminius did all that courage could inspire, to save his army; whereever the enemy was most successful, he flew with a chosen body of his attendants to repress them; at last, despairing of victory, and unwilling to survive a defeat, he flung himself alone into the midst of the enemy, and was killed by a Gaulish horseman, who struck him through the body with a blow of his lance. Hannibal, after the battle, kept the Roman prisoners, but civilly dismissed those of the Latins, and willing to give the consul an honourable interment, he sought his body amongst the heaps of slain, but it could not be found.
Upon the news of this defeat at Rome, after the general consternation was allayed, the senate, upon mature deliberation, resolved to elect a commander with absolute authority, in whom they might repose their last and greatest expectations. Their choice fell upon Fabius Maximus, a man of great courage, but with a happy mixture of caution; less enraptured with the glare of victory, than the consciousness of deserving it. This old commander, thus invested with the supreme dignity, set forward with what preparations he was able to make, but with no intentions of fighting an enemy, whom he knew more powerful than himself. He had long before setting out laid a plan by which to proceed, and to that he strictly adhered during all the ensuing campaigns. He was apprized that the only way to humble the Carthaginians at such a distance from home, was rather by harrassing them than by fighting. For this purpose, he always encamped upon the highest grounds, inaccessible to the enemies cavalry. Whenever they moved he moved, watched their motions straightened their quarters, and cut off their provisions. It was in vain that Hannibal used every stratagem to bring him to a battle; the cautious Roman, thence surnamed Cunctator, still kept aloof, contented with seeing his enemy in some measure defeated by delay. Hannibal, now therefore, perceiving that his adversaries had altered their plan of operations, tried his usual arts to make Fabius appear despicable to his own army. He sometimes therefore, braved him in his camp, he sometimes wasted the country round him, talked of his abilities with contempt, and in all his excursions, spared the possessions of Fabius, while those of the other Romans were plundered without mercy. These arts in some measure succeeded: the Romans began to suspect their general, either of cowardice or treachery, and a slight action that ensued a little after, gave strength to their suspicions. For Hannibal designing to march, for the convenience of forage, to a place called Cassinum, he was, by a mistake of his guide, conducted towards Cassilinum, where he found himself in a close country, hemmed in on every side. However, willing to draw all the advantages he was able from his situation, he ordered his cavalry to pillage the country round, which the Roman army, that still kept him in view, beheld from a neighbouring hill. Hannibal knew that his depredations would excite them to a desire of revenge; but it was in vain they cried out to their phlegmatic general, to lead them down upon the enemy. Fabius still kept his post, contrary to all the entreaties of his men, and even the expostulations of Minutius, his master of the horse. It was now therefore found, that the prudent Roman began to practise Hannibal's own stratagems against himself: he had now enclosed him among mountains, where it was impossible to winter, and yet, from which, it was almost impracticable to extricate his army without imminent danger. In this exigence, nothing but one of those stratagems of war, which fall to the lot of great abilities only to invent, could save him. Hannibal's amazing fertility in expedients, suggested one at this time which was successful: he ordered a number of small faggots and lighted torches to be tied to the horns of two thousand oxen, that he had in his camp, and that they should be driven towards the enemy. These tossing their heads, and running up the sides of the mountains, seemed to fill the whole neighbouring forest with fire, while the centinels that were placed to guard the approaches of the mountain, seeing such a number of flames advancing towards their posts, fled in consternation, supposing the whole body of the enemy was in arms to overwhelm them. By this stratagem, Hannibal drew off his army, and escaped through the defiles that led beneath the hills, though with considerable damage to his rear. Although Fabius had conducted himself in this expedition with all the prudence and conduct of the most consummate general, he could not prevent the murmurs of his army, who now began to tax his ignorance in war, as they had formerly impeached his valour and fidelity.
Fabius, no way sollicitous to quiet the murmurs, either of his army or of the citizens themselves, returned to Rome, in order to raise money to ransom some Roman prisoners, whom Hannibal offered to release: but in the mean time, he gave his instructions to Minucius, his master of the horse, to abstain from giving the enemy battle, upon any occasion whatsoever. Minucius however, who now began to have the same opinion of the dictator, that the rest of the soldiers entertained of him, little regarded his instructions, but venturing out against the Carthaginians, skirmished with such success, that by universal consent, was made equal in power to the dictator, and both generals were appointed to command, each his own part of the army. Being thus possessed of equal power, Minucius began by altering the former conduct of Fabius. From keeping on the tops of the mountains, he now drew down his part of the army into the plain, and offered the enemy battle. This was the disposition that Hannibal had long wished for, and pretending to be very earnest in taking possession of an hill which commanded the camp of the Romans, he drew the eyes of all to that quarter, while he formed an ambuscade on the other side, with orders to sally forth in the midst of the engagement. The Romans accordingly made most a vigorous attack upon the Carthaginians, who had taken possession of the hill, while new reinforcements were sent from either army. At last, Minucius drew out his legions, and the engagement became general. It was then that the superior conduct of the Carthaginian commander was discovered, for the men who were placed in ambush sallying forth upon the rear, began to throw the whole Roman army into confusion, and nothing less than a total defeat threatened to ensue. In the mean time, Fabius, who was returned from Rome, after solliciting an exchange of prisoners, and after selling all his little patrimony, to raise a sum which he was denied by the senate, to pay their ransom, came in while Minucius was in this desperate situation. He did not long hesitate upon the course he should pursue, but falling upon the Carthaginians, at once stopt the flight of the Romans, and obstructed the enemies pursuit. Hannibal now perceived, that the cloud which had so long hovered upon the mountains, at last broke upon him in a storm; he was obliged to command a retreat, while Minucius was so convinced of his former rashness, that he confessed his error to Fabius, whom he now called his father, and renouncing his new power, again subjected his office freely to the dictatorship.
Soon after however, Fabius was obliged to lay down his office, his time being expired, and a violent contest ensued at Rome, about the proper persons to be elected to the consulship. The patricians and the plebeians, as usual, taking opposite sides, at last the multitude prevailed, and Terentius Varro was chosen alone, by the majority of voices in the assembly of the people. This Terentius Varro was a man sprung from the dregs of the people, and with nothing but his confidence and riches to recommend him. He had long aspired at the highest offices of the state: being ignorant, vain, boastful, and confident, but fond of popular applause, and seeking it by all the arts of meanness and adulation. With him was joined Aemilius Paulus, of a disposition entirely opposite; experienced in the field, cautious in action, and impressed with a thorough contempt of the abilities of his plebeian colleague. Fabius, who had just resigned his office, saw, with his usual sagacity, the danger that threatened the state, from two such illmatched commanders, and entreated Aemilius, by all he held dear, to guard against the devices of Hannibal, and the rashness of Terentius Varro. However, it was now no time for indulging fearful apprehensions, the enemy being at hand, and the Romans finding themselves enabled to bring a competent force into the field, being almost ninety thousand strong.
Hannibal was at this time encamped near the village of Cannae, with a wind that for a certain season blows still one way, in his rear, which raising great clouds of dust from the parched plains behind, he knew must greatly distress an approaching enemy. In this situation he waited the coming up of the Romans, with an army of forty thousand foot and half that number of cavalry. The two consuls soon appeared, to his wish, dividing their forces into two parts, and agreeing to take the command every day by turns. On the first day of their arrival, it falling to the lot of Aemilius to command, he was entirely averse to engaging, and though Hannibal did all that lay in his power, by insulting his men in their camp, and his colleague, by reproaching his timidity, to bring him to a battle, yet he obstinately declined fighting, conscious of the enemy's superior disposition. The next day however, it being come to Varro's turn to command, he, without asking his colleague's concurrence, gave the signal for battle, and passing the river Aufidus, that lay between both armies, put his forces in array. The two consuls commanded the two wings, Varro on the right, and Aemilius on the left; to him also was consigned the general conduct of the engagement. On the other hand, Hannibal, who had been from day-break employed in the field marshalling his forces as they came up, and inspiring them with courage by his voice and example, had so artfully disposed them, that both the wind and the sun were in his favour. His cavalry were ordered to oppose those of Rome. His heavy armed African infantry were placed in either wing. These, says the historian, might have been mistaken for a Roman army themselves, being dressed in the spoils of such as were killed at Trebia and Thrasymene. Next these were the Gauls, a fierce people, naked from the waist, bearing large round shields, and swords of an enormous size, blunted at the point. The Spaniards were placed in the centre, brandishing short pointed daggers, and drest in linnen vests, embroidered with the brightest scarlet. Asdrubal commanded the left wing, the right was given to Maherbal, and Hannibal himself fought on foot in the centre of the army. The battle began with the lightarmed infantry; the horse engaged soon after, and the Roman cavalry being unable to stand against those of Numidia, the legions came up to reinforce them. It was then that the conflict became general; the Roman soldiers, for a long time, endeavoured, but in vain, to penetrate the centre where the Gauls and Spaniards fought; which Hannibal observing, ordered part of those troops to give way, and to permit the Romans to embosom themselves within a chosen body of his Africans, whom he had placed on either wing, so as to surround them: upon that a terrible slaughter began to ensue of the Romans, fatigued by their repeated attacks, by the Africans, who were fresh and vigorous. All the hopes of Rome now lay in the cavalry of the allies, which yet continued unbroken, but even on that side the great art of Hannibal discovered itself: for having ordered five hundred of his Numidian horse, who had daggers concealed under their coats of mail, to go against the enemy, and to make a shew of surrendering themselves prisoners of war; these obeying, and being placed by the allied cavalry for greater security, in the rear, while they were employed in combating the troops that opposed them in front, all of a sudden, these supposed prisoners fell upon them with their daggers, from behind, and put them into irrecoverable confusion. Thus the rout at last became general in every part of the Roman army; the boastings of Varro were now no longer heard, while Aemilius, who had been terribly wounded by a slinger in the very beginning of the engagement, still feebly led on his body of horse, and did all that could be done to make head against the enemy; however, being unable to sit on horseback, he was forced to dismount, as did also those who followed him; but what could be expected from a measure dictated only by despair! Tho' they fought with great intrepidity for some time, they were at last obliged to give way, those that were able, remounting their horses, and seeking safety by flight. It was in this deplorable condition of things, that one Lentulus, a tribune of the army, as he was flying on horseback from the enemy, which at some distance pursued him, met the consul Aemilius sitting upon a stone, covered over with blood and wounds, and waiting for the coming up of the pursuers.
"Aemilius," cried the generous tribune, "you, at least, are guiltless of this day's slaughter: take my horse, while you have any strength remaining, I will engage to assist, and will with my life defend you. We have already lost blood enough in the field, do not make the day more dreadful by the loss of a commander." "I thank thee, Lentulus," cried the dying consul, "for ever guard thy virtue, and may the gods recompence thy piety; but as for me, all is over, my part is chosen; do not therefore, by attempting to persuade a desperate man, lose the only means of procuring thine own safety. Go, I command thee, and tell the senate, from me, to fortify Rome against the approach of the conqueror. Tell Fabius also, that Aemilius, while living, ever remembered his advice, and now dying, approves it."
While he was yet speaking, the enemy approached, and Lentulus, before he was out of view, saw the consul expire, feebly fighting in the midst of them. The slaughter had now continued for several hours, till at last, the conquerors, quite wearied with destroying, Hannibal gave orders for them to desist, and led them back to encampment, a large body of Romans having previously surrendered upon condition of being dismissed without arms. In this battle, the Romans lost fifty thousand men, two Quaestors, twenty one Tribunes, eighty senators, and so many knights, that it is said, Hannibal sent three bushels of gold rings to Carthage, which those of this order had worn on their fingers.
This seemed the decisive blow, that was to determine the fate of Rome: it only now remained, and was universally expected, that Hannibal should march his army to the gates of the city, and make it an easy conquest. This was the advice of Maherbal, his captain of the horse, who, when Hannibal rejected it, could not help observing, that the Carthaginian general was much more skillful in gaining victories, than in improving them. Indeed the justice of Maherbal's advice seems to appear from the general terror that universally prevailed in Rome at that time. Nothing was heard throughout the city but shrieks and lamentations of women, who on every side demanded their husbands or their children. In vain, for a time, could the senators consult together, being disturbed by the cries of the populace. Nothing but terror appeared in every face, and despair was the language of every tongue. At length, when the first consternation was abated, the senate came to a general resolution, to create a dictator, in order to give strength to their government. Orders were also given, to keep all women from coming abroad, and spreading the consternation; strict guards were placed at the city gates, with strict injunctions, that none should leave the city. It was at this time, that young Scipio, whom we have already seen saving his father's life in battle, was now resolved to save his country also. He was then but a tribune of the army, and being retired the night after the battle, to a little town in the neighbourhood of Rome, was informed, that some young men of the first families in the city were at a certain house preparing to abandon their country, and resolving to seek for safety elsewhere. He was instantly filled with indignation at their pusilanimity; he therefore resolved to prevent that influence which their example might have upon others, and turning to some of his fellow soldiers who were with him,
"Let those, cried he, to whom Rome is dear, follow me."
So saying, he went directly to the house in question, where he found them in actual deliberation. Upon this, laying his hand upon his sword,
"I swear, cried he, that I will never abandon Rome, and will never suffer that others should abandon it. Those who will not take the same oath, are not only their country's enemies, but mine"
The resolute manner in which he spoke this, together with his known courage, in some measure intimidated the conspirators, they all took the same oath, and vowed, rather than forsake Rome▪ to stay till they were buried beneath its ruins. Thence forward, the people seemed to gather new resolution; the senate cenceived new hopes of victory, and the augurs gave them assurance of a turn in their favour. A short time after, Varro arrived near Rome; having left behind him wretched remains of his army; he had been the principal cause of the late calamity, and it was natural to suppose, that the senate would severely reprimand the rashness of his conduct. But fat otherwise! The Romans went out in multitudes to meet him, and the senate returned him thanks, that he had not despaired of the safety of Rome. Such a conquest over all the vindictive passions, was much greater than the victory at Cannae. The people being thus, by Hannibal's delay, inspired with fresh courage, made all possible preparations for another campaign. They armed their slaves, and filled up the senate, which wanted near half its number. Fabius, who was considered as the shield of Rome, and Marcellus as the sword, were appointed to lead the armies, and though Hannibal once more offered them peace, they refused it, but upon condition that he should quit Italy, terms similar to those they had insisted upon from Pyrrhus before.
In the mean time, Hannibal, either finding the impossibility of marching directly to Rome, or willing to give his forces rest after such a mighty victory, led them to Capua, where he resolved to winter. This city had long been considered as the nurse of luxury and the corrupter of all military virtue; here therefore, a new scene of pleasure opened to his barbarian troops, and they at once gave themselves up to the intoxication, till, from being hardy veterans, they became infirm rioters. For this he has been greatly blamed by antiquity, as losing that happy occasion, when fortune seems kind, and exchanging empire for dissipation; but it is not considered what numberless obstacles he had to surmount, and what an enemy he had to deal with. Rome was as yet powerful, it could bring into the field, if we may judge from the latest estimate that was made of its numbers, two hundred thousand fighting men; it might therefore, have been rashness itself in Hannibal, to lead his army to the siege of a city, strongly defended by art, and with a garrison more than four times his equal. We have only to give him credit upon this occasion, for what he would have done, by remembering the seeming impossibilities which he happily atchieved. To have led and maintained a large army, consisting of various nations, more than a thousand miles from home. To have surmounted precipices, which, considering the place he entered Italy, are, to this day, regarded as impassable. To have fought successfully, for many years, in the heart of an enemies country. To have, by his single presence, united into obedience, and formed into one body an army, composed of Spaniards, Africans, Gauls, and Ligurians, and kept them steady to him, though often wanting bread. To have an obstinate enemy to combat, and faithless employers at home, who retarded, because they envied his successes. When we consider him as triumphing over all these obstacles by the strength of his own genius only, we view in him the most august spectacle, that all antiquity has ever exhibited.
Hitherto we have found this great man successful, but now we are to reverse the picture, and survey him struggling with accumulated misfortunes, and at last, sinking beneath them. His first repulse was from his own countrymen at home. Whilst, at Rome, the thanks of the senate were voted to a consul who fled, at Carthage, Hanno, one of their former generals, began to form a party against Hannibal, and more an enemy to his rival, than to the Romans themselves, forgot nothing that might obstruct the successes he had in prospect, or tarnish the splendor of those he had already obtained. Upon Hannibal's sending for a new supply of men and money to the senate of Carthage,
"What would this man have asked," cried Hanno," "if he had lost a battle? when he makes such draughts upon us after gaining a victory. No, no, he is either an impostor, that amuses us with false news, or a public robber, that enriches himself and not his country."
This opposition, the effects of which still continued to operate, delayed the necessary succours, though it could not hinder their tardy compliance. Thus, being frequently destitute of money and provisions, and reduced to the necessity of being always successful, with no recruits of strength in case of ill fortune, and no encouragement even in the good, it is not to be wondered at, that his affairs began at length to decline, and that those of the opposing generals began to prosper, whose employers observed a contrary conduct.
His first loss was at the siege of Nola, where Marcellus the praetor made a successful sally. He some time after attempted to raise the siege of Capua, and attacked the Romans in their trenches, but he was repulsed with considerable loss. He then made a feint of going to besiege Rome, but finding a superior army ready to receive him, he was obliged to retire. For some years after, he fought with various success, Marcellus,
U. C.
544
his opponent, sometimes gaining, and sometimes losing the advantage, but coming to no decisive engagement. However, even victories themselves could not restore the affairs of Hannibal, for though these might lessen the number of his enemies forces, he had exhausted all the arts of recruiting his own.
The senate of Carthage, at length, came to a resolution of sending his brother Asdrubal to his assistance, with a body of forces drawn out of Spain. Asdrubal's march being made known to the consuls, Livius and Nero, they went against him with great expedition, and surrounded him in a place, into which he was
ed by the treachery of his guides, and cut his whole army to pieces. Hannibal had long expected these succours with impatience, and the very night, on which he had been assured of his brother's arrival, Nero ordered Asdrubal's head to be cut off, and thrown into his camp. He now therefore, began to perceive the approaches of the downfal of Carthage, and could not help, with a sigh, observing to those about him, that fortune seemed fatigued with granting favours.
But it was not in Italy alone, that the affairs of Carthage seemed to decline, for the Romans, while yet bleeding from their defeat at Cannae, sent legions into Spain, Sardinia, and Sicily. This unconquerable people, surrounded by enemies on every side, still found resources to oppose them all; they not only fought those nations, but appointed fresh succours to the few allies that yet adhered to them: they made head against Hannibal in Italy, and still more, undertook a new war against Philip, king of Macedon, for having made a league with the Carthaginians. Fortune seemed to favour them in almost all their enterprizes. Laevinus, the consul gained considerable advantages over Philip, and Marcellus took Syracuse in Sicily, which was defended by the machines and fires of Archimedes the mathematician.
This great city first invited the efforts of the besiegers, as it was generally thought indefensible, and its riches were immense. The Romans therefore sate down before it, with the expectation of a speedy surrender, and immense plunder. But the wisdom of one man alone, seemed to suspend its fate: this was Archimedes, the celebrated mathematician, many of whose works are still remaining; he destroying their men, and demolishing their shipping. He so united the powers of mechanism, that he raised their vessels into the air, and then let them dash to pieces, by the violence of their fall. He also made use of burning glasses, which, at the distance of some hundred yards, set the Roman ships and wooden towers on fire. At last however, the town was taken on a great festival by surprize. The inhabitants were put to the sword, and among the rest, Archimedes, who was found meditating in his study, was slain by a Roman soldier. Marcellus, the general, was not a little grieved at his death; a passion for letters, at that time, began to prevail among the higher ranks of people at Rome. He therefore ordered his body to be honourably buried, and a tomb to be erected to his memory, which however his works have long survived.
As for their fortunes in Spain, though for a while they appeared doubtful, two of the Scipios being slain, and Claudius Nero, the governor of the province, much an under-match for the cunning of the Carthaginian general; yet they soon recovered their complexion under the conduct of Scipio Africanus, who sued for the office of proconsul, for that kingdom, at a time when every one else was willing to decline it. Scipio, who was now but twenty-four years old, had all the qualifications requisite for forming a great general, and a good man: he united the greatest courage with the greatest tenderness; superior to Hannibal in the arts of peace, and almost his equal in those of war. His father had been killed in Spain, so that he seemed to have an hereditary claim to the conquest of the country. He therefore appeared irresistible, obtaining many great victories, yet subduing still more by his generosity, mildness, and benevolent disposition, than by the force of his arms. Among other instances of the greatness of Scipio's mind, was the following: upon the taking of New Carthage, he treated his prisoners with the utmost lenity, and different from other generals, who permitted every barbarity to their soldiers, he repressed his men from doing any injury to such as sued for mercy. Among the prisoners that were made at the taking this city, a young princess was brought before him, of the most exquisite beauty: she had been promised to Alleucius, a prince of that country, who loved her with the most ardent passion, and had felt the most poignant distress for her captivity. It was thought, by the sollicitude the generous Roman seemed to shew, that he designed asking her from her parents for himself, and more so, when he desired, that the prince and they might come before him. The young prince approached, trembling with anxiety, expecting to hear, that his mistress, who was now the property of another, was intended to promote the happiness of her conqueror: but his fears were dispelled, when Scipio giving the princess to his arms, bade him take what was his by a prior claim, and only desired his friendship and alliance in return: at the same time, he refused the ransom which her parents had brought, and when they pressed him to take it, he desired it might be added to her portion. It was by such generous acts as these, as well as the fortune of his arms, that he reduced the whole country to the obedience of the empire.
In this manner, Spain and Sicily being added to the Roman empire, it now found resources for continuing the Punic war. However, Hannibal still kept his ground in Italy, although he was unsupported at home, and but indifferently assisted by the alliances he had made, since his crossing the Alps. He had now continued in this country for more than fourteen years, and as Polybius says, had never lost a single battle, where he himself was the commader. But it was now too late to retrieve his fortune, the Romans were taught his own arts, his old army was worn out, either with excesses of fatigue or debauchery; his countrymen had given over sending new supplies, so that he had nothing now to make him formidable, but the fame of his former good fortune.
It was in this posture of his affairs, that Scipio returned with an army from the conquest of Spain, and was made consul at the age of twenty-nine. It was at first supposed, he intended meeting Hannibal in Italy, and that he would attempt driving him from thence; but he had already formed a wiser plan, which was to carry the war into Africa, and while the Carthaginians kept an army near Rome, to make them tremble for their own capital. This measure was opposed with great heat by Fabius, and thereupon a considerable difference arose; but at last it was determined by the senate, that Scipio should be granted Sicily for his province, and that leave should be given him to pass over into Africa, if he saw it convenient for the interests of Rome. This he considered as a concurrence with his aims; he accordingly spent the first year in Sicily, providing necessaries for his intended expedition, and went over into Africa the beginning of the next, with a large fleet, where he was joined by Massinissa, the deposed king of Numidia, with whom he had made an alliance in Spain.
Scipio was not long in Africa without employment, for in a short time, Hanno opposed him, who was defeated and slain. Syphax, the usurper of Numidia, led up a large army against him. The Roman general, for a time, declined fighting, till finding an opportunity, he set fire to the enemy's tents, and attacking him in the midst of the confusion, killed forty thousand of his men, and took six thousand prisoners. Not long after, Syphax, willing to strike one blow more for empire, and fearing that his kingdom would return to the true possessor, in case the the Romans should succeed, gathered together a numerous army of various nations, and with these unexperienced troops marched against Scipio. His former ill fortune followed him, he was soon defeated, and he himself taken prisoner. Massinissa being thus put in possession of the usurper's person, the better to regain his kingdom, marched with the utmost expedition to Cirta, the chief city, and shewing Syphax in bonds, procured the gates to be opened, every one striving to make up their former disloyalty, by their ready obedience. In this manner, Massinissa became possessed of the royal palace, and and all the wealth of the late king, but among the rest, of a treasure that he esteemed above all, Sophonisba, the wife of Syphax. Sophonisba was the daughter of Asdrubal, one of the Carthaginian generals: she was a woman of great ambition, and incomparable beauty: it was she, that from the beginning had incited Syphax to declare against Rome, in favour of Carthage, and the influence of her charms was such, that he gave up safety, to be possessed of love. Upon Massinissa's entering the palace, he was met by the queen, who with all the allurements of weeping beauty, fell at his feet, and entreated him to spare her youth, and not deliver her up to the Romans, who were prepared to take revenge upon her, for all the injuries done them by her father. While she yet hung upon his knees, and in some measure, mixed caresses with her entreaties, Massinssa found himself touched with a passion that was something more than pity: he fell in love: he therefore quickly granted her request, and finding her not averse to his sollicitations, the very day they first met, was that of their nuptials. The first account that Scipio had of this hasty and unjust marriage, was from the unfortunate Syphax himself, who attempted to palliate his enmity to Rome, by throwing the blame upon Sophonisba; and then described the wretchedness of his situation, with an eloquence pointed by jealousy. Scipio was instantly fired with resentment at the conduct of the young king: he now saw that all his former lectures, exhorting to continence and humanity, were but thrown away; he therefore desired to speak with Massinissa in private, where he urged the cruelty, the impropriety, and the injustice of taking the wife of another, and that on the very day, on which he had lost his liberty and his kingdom: he entreated the young king to recollect his former virtuous resolutions, and reject a passion that was attended with infamy. Finding however, these remonstrances make no impression, he added, that Syphax was now the prisoner of Rome, that he must wait upon the senate, and that his queen, who was a prisoner also, must attend him there. Massinissa now finding that the obstacles to his happiness were insurmountable, left the general in a seeming acquiescence in his advice, but feeling all that tumult of passions, which disappointed love, and ungoverned inclination could excite, at last, called one of his slaves who carried poison, according to the custom of barbarian kings,
"Go," said he, "and present the queen, from me, with a bowl of poison; death is now the only way she has left of escaping the power of the Romans. The daughter of Asdrubal, and the wife of a king, will consult for glory."
When the slave presented his mistress with the bowl,
"I take it," cried she, "as the kindest offering he can make. In the mean time, inform him, that my death would have been more glorious, had it been more remote from my marriage."
So saying, she drank off the poison with intrepidity, and died, without shewing any signs of terror.
In the mean time, while these things were transacting at Cirta, the Carthaginians were so terrified at their repeated defeats, and the fame of Scipio's former successes, that they determined to recall Hannibal, their great champion, out of Italy, in order to oppose the Romans at home. Deputies were accordingly dispatched, with a positive command, to return and oppose the Roman general, who at that time threatened Carthage with a siege. Nothing could exceed the regret and disappointment of Hannibal, upon receiving this order; he had long foreseen the ruin of his country, but at the same time knew, that Italy was the only place, in which its fate could be suspended. However, he obeyed the orders of the infatuated people, with the same submission that the meanest soldier would have done, and took leave of Italy, with tears in his eyes, after having kept possession of the most beautiful parts of it for above fifteen years.
After a melancholly passage from Italy, where he had lost his two brothers, and most of his bravest generals, and left the allies of his country to the fury of the conquerors, he arrived at Leptis, in Africa, from whence he marched to Adrumetum, and at last approached Zama, a city within five days journey of Carthage. Scipio, in the mean time, led his army to meet him, joined by Massinissa, with six thousand horse, and to shew his rival in the field, how little he feared his approach, sent back the spies, which were sent to explore his camp, having previously shewn them the whole, with directions to inform Hannibal of what they had seen. The Carthaginian general soon found out the superior force of the enemy, composed of the flower of the Romans, while his own army was now but a mixture of various nations, drawn together by necessity, with no experience, and with little other discipline, but what the short time he commanded them could give. The troops that almost subdued all Italy were worn out, or but nominally existing in his army. Conscious of this therefore, his first endeavours were to discontinue the war by negotiation; and he therefore desired a meeting with Scipio, to confer upon terms of peace, to which the Roman general assented. It was in a large plain between the two armies, that the two greatest generals in the world came to this interview: both, for a while, silently regarded his opponent, as if struck with mutual reverence and esteem. Scipio was, in figure, adorned with all advantages of manly beauty; Hannibal bore the marks in his visage, of hard campaigns, and being blind of one eye, it gave a stern air to his countenance. Hannibal spoke first, to this effect:
"Were I not convinced of the equity of the Romans, I would not this day have come to demand peace from the son, over whose father I have formerly been victorious. Would to heaven, that the same moderation, which I hope inspires us at this day, had prevailed among us at the beginning of the war; that you had been content with the limits of your Italian dominions, and that we had never aimed at adding Sicily to our empire: we had then on both sides spared that blood, which no rewards from victory can repay. As for myself, age has taught me the inanity of triumphs, and the instability of fortune: but you are young, and perhaps, not yet lessoned in the school of adversity; you are now, what I was, after the battles of Cannae and Thrasymene; you perhaps will aim at splendid, rather than at useful virtues. But consider, that peace is the end at which all victories aim, and that peace, I am sent here by my country to offer: do not therefore, expose to the hazard of an hour, that fame which you have obtained by an age of conquests. At present, Scipio, fortune is in your power, a moment of time may give it to your enemy. But let me not call myself such; it is Hannibal that now addresses you, Hannibal that esteems your virtues, and desires your friendship. Peace will be useful to us both; as for me, I shall be proud of the alliance of Rome, and as for you, you will convert an active enemy into a stedfast friend."
To this Scipio replied,
"That as to the wars which he complained of, as they were begun by the Carthaginians, so they must abide by the consequence. That as to himself, he could never condemn his own perseverance on the side of justice. That some late outrages had been committed during a late truce, which required the greater reparation, which if consented to, he was willing to conclude a treaty."
Both sides parting dissatisfied, they returned to their camps, to prepare for deciding the controversy by the sword. Never was a more memorable battle fought, whether we regard the generals, the armies, the two states that contended, or the empire that was in dispute. The disposition Hannibal made of his men, is said, by the skillful in the art of war, to be superior to any, even of his former arrangements. He encouraged the various nations of his army, by the differing motives which led them to the field; to the mercenaries, he promised a discharge of their arrears, and double pay, with plunder, in case of a victory; the Gauls he inspired, by aggravating their natural hatred to the Romans; the Numidians, by representing the cruelty of their new king; and the Carthaginians by reminding them of their country, their glory, their danger of servitude, and their desire of freedom. Scipio, on the other hand, with a chearful countenance, bade his men rejoice, for that their labours and their dangers were now near an end. That the gods had given Carthage into their hands, and that they should soon return triumphant to their friends, their wives and their children. The battle began by the elephants, on the side of the Carthaginians, which being terrified by the cries of the Romans, and wounded by the slingers and archers, turned upon themselves, and caused much confusion in both wings of their army, in which the cavalry was placed. Being thus deprived of the assistance of the horse, in which their greatest strength consisted, the heavy infantry joined on both sides. The Romans were more vigorous and powerful in the shock, the Carthaginians more active and ready. However, they were unable to withstand the continued pressure of the Roman shields, but at first gave way a little, and this soon brought on a general flight. The rear guard, who had orders from Hannibal to oppose those that fled, now began to attack their own forces, so that the body of the infantry sustained a double encounter, of those who caused their flight, and those who endeavoured to prevent it. At length however, the general finding that they were not to be made to stand, directed, that they should fall behind, while he brought up his fresh forces to oppose the pursuers. Scipio, upon this, immediately sounded a retreat, in order to bring up his men a second time in good order. And now the combat began afresh, between the flower of both armies. The Carthaginians however, having been deprived of the succour of their elephants and their horse, and their enemies being stronger of body, were obliged to give ground. In the mean time, Massinissa, who had been in pursuit of their cavalry, returning and attacking them in the rear, compleated their defeat. A total rout ensued, twenty thousand men were killed in battle or the pursuit, and as many were taken prisoners. Hannibal, who had done all that a great general and an undaunted soldier could perform, fled with a small body of horse to Adrumetum, fortune seeming to delight in confounding his ability, his valour, and experience.
This victory brought on a peace. The Carthaginians, by Hannibal's advice, offered conditions to the Romans, which they dictated, not as rivals, but as sovereigns. By this treaty, the Carthaginians were obliged to quit Spain, and all the Islands in the Mediterranean sea. They were bound to pay ten thousand talents in fifty years; to give hostages for the delivery of their ships and their elephants. To restore Massinissa all the territories that had been taken from him, and not to make war in Africa, but by the permission of the Romans. Thus ended the second Punic war, seventeen years after it had begun: Carthage still continued an empire, but without power to defend its possessions, and only waiting the pleasure of the conquerors, when they should think proper to end the period of its continuance. After the
U. C.
553
depression of this mighty dominion, the Romans were scarce engaged but in petty wars, and obtained mighty victories; whereas before, they had obtained but petty victories, and were engaged in dangerous wars.
CHAP. XVII. From the end of the second Punic war to the end of the third, which terminated in the destruction of Carthage.
UPON the conclusion of so great and long a war as that of Carthage, there seemed to arise a certain spirit in the Roman republic, unknown till that time. Men, till now had received distinction from their abilities, their families, their offices, or their virtues: but upon the conquest of such various countries, such great riches, and so many slaves were brought into Rome, that the manners of the people began to alter. Riches gave them a taste for pleasures unknown before, and the slaves they had taken, were put to those offices of labour and husbandry, that had formerly contributed to harden the warrior, and mark the character of Roman simplicity. Their love of their country, and their zeal for the public good, seemed exhausted in the war against Hannibal: many had given up their whole fortunes to the republic, and not finding that recompence in peace, which the publick was as yet unable to grant them; they suffered neglect patiently for a while, and at last converted their anger at the ingratitude of the state, into a desire of private interest: they sought new connections in society, and forgetting the whole, laboured to form particular dependencies.
The senate however, prosecuted new wars, rather with a view of keeping these spirits employed from doing harm to the empire, than of advancing its interests. They continued to carry on the Macedonian war against Philip, who, as was said before, had entered into an alliance with the Carthaginians, during the conquests of Hannibal. To this war the Romans were not a little incited by the prayers of the Athenians; that polite people, who from once controlling the power of Persia, were now unable to defend themselves. The Rhodians, with Attalus, king of Pergamus, also entered into the confederacy against Philip. He was more than once defeated by Galba the consul, who was sent against him. He attempted to besiege Athens, but the Romans obliged him to raise the siege. He attempted to take possession of the streights of Thermopylae, but was driven from them by Quintus Flaminius, with great slaughter. He attempted to take refuge in Thessaly, where he was again defeated, with considerable loss, and obliged to beg a peace, upon condition of paying a thousand talents, half down, and the other half in the space of ten years. The peace with Philip gave the Romans an opportunity of shewing their generosity, by restoring liberty to Greece. They had for some time submitted to the institutions of this most refined people, and now out of a principle of gratitude, endeavoured to recompence their masters. The senate therefore sent over ten men of the first rank, with Flamminius at their head, to proclaim an universal freedom, at the Isthmian games, where the people were assembled. This was the most surprizing and joyful gift that could be imagined, to a people panting after liberty, and whose ancestors had spent their dearest blood in its cause. The Greeks gave them all the return that was now in their power, namely, praise; this satisfied the Romans, for vanity was now the ruling passion of the times: and thus ended what was called the first Macedonian war, five years after
U. C.
558
it was last proclaimed, and twenty after it had begun.
During the continuance of this war, the Gauls, who had joined with Hannibal, received some signal overthrows. The Spaniards also, who had revolted, were quelled by Cato the censor. The Ligurians, though joining with the Gauls, were subdued. Nabis, the deposed king of Lacedaemon, opposed the Romans, but was forced to submit. Scarce any nation or prince of power attempted to oppose them, that was not overthrown. Antiochus, king of Syria, was a monarch, whose strength and fame invited their ambition, and after some embassies on the one side and the other, a war was declared against him, five years after the conclusion of the Macedonian war. The pretext of the Romans was,
that he had made encroachments upon the Grecian states, who were their allies, and that he had given refuge to Hannibal, their inveterate enemy, who had been expelled from Carthage. This Antiochus, who was surnamed the Great, was one of Alexander's successors, a potent prince, bold, ambitious, and master of very extensive dominions, which his personal abilities invigorated and inspired. The Aetolians, who had imagined they should bear sway in Greece by joining with the Romans, found too late, that they had only brought themselves to share the general subjection, in which the rest of the states of Greece were held, under the specious denomination of freedom. In order therefore, to correct one extravagance by another, they had invited this prince among them, in the same manner, as before they had invited the Romans. He accordingly came to their assistance, but with an army, rather as if he intended only to be a spectator, than a manager of the war, and instead of preparing for the Romans, sate down at Ephesus to take his pleasures. Being however, apprized of the enemies approach, he endeavoured to treat for a peace; this not succeeding, he placed his dependance on his maritime forces; but even there his expectations were frustrated, though the great Hannibal was his admiral. In the midst of the consternation occasioned by these misfortunes, he abandoned Lysimachia, a place where he might have held the enemy for a year, and adding one indiscretion to another, suffered Scipio, brother to the famous Africanus, to pass the Hellespont with his army, without opposition. He then attempted to obtain a peace, by offering to quit all places in Europe, and such in Asia as profest alliance with Rome. But it was now too late, the Roman general perceived his own superiority, and was resolved to avail himself of it. Antiochus thus driven into resistance, for some time retreated before the enemy, till being pressed hard, near the city of Magnesia, he was forced to draw out his men, to the number of seventy thousand foot, and twelve thousand horse. Scipio opposed him with forces, as much inferior in number, as they were superior in courage and discipline. He was in a short time entirely defeated, his own chariots, armed with scythes, being driven back upon his men, contributed much to his overthrow. Antiochus thus reduced to the last extremity, was glad to procure peace of the Romans, upon their own terms, which were, to pay fifteen thousand talents towards the expences of the war; to quit all possessions in Europe, and likewise all in Asia, on that side Mount Taurus; to give twenty hostages as pledges of his fidelity, and to deliver up Hannibal, the inveterate enemy of Rome. Thus ended the war with Antiochus, twelve years after the second Punic war, and two after it had been begun. Lucius Scipio, who conducted it, with the assistance of his brother Scipio Africanus, who went as his lieutenant, was called Asiaticus, from his success in Asia.
In the mean time, Hannibal, whose destruction was one of the articles of this extorted treaty, endeavoured to avoid the threatened ruin. This consummate general had been long a wanderer, and an exile from his ungrateful country: all that prudence or justice could inspire, he had done for the safety of Carthage, even after the battle which he had lost at Zama. Upon his return to his native city, he found the public treasures exhausted among those who pretended to collect them, and when he endeavoured to punish their avarice, they accused him to the Romans, of attempting to renew the war. This bringing on a demand that he should be delivered up, he resolved to yield to the necessity of the times, and fly. Thus leaving Carthage, in the very robe he wore in council, and attended only by two followers, who were ignorant of his intentions, he began his voluntary exile. After two days travelling by land, he embarked, and landed on a little island in the Mediterranean sea. There being known by one who had formerly fought under his command, he was quickly surrounded by the inhabitants, who came from motives of reverence and curiosity. From thence he failed to Tyre, where he met with a kind reception from the inhabitants, who remembered their ancient alliance with Carthage. He thence went to the court of Antiochus, who at first gave him a sincere welcome, and made him admiral of his fleet, in which station he shewed his usual skill in stratagem. But he soon sunk in the Syrian's esteem, for having advised schemes, which that monarch had neither genius to understand, nor talents to execute, particularly, that of a second invasion of Italy. At last, finding himself destined to be given up, in order to propitiate the Romans, and confirm the peace, and finding no hopes of safety or protection there, he departed by stealth, and after wandering for a time among petty states, who had neither power nor generosity to protect him, he took refuge at the court of Prusias, king of Bithynia. However the Romans, with a vindictive spirit utterly unworthy of them, sent Aemilius, one of their most celebrated generals, to demand him of this king, who fearing the resentment of Rome, and willing to conciliate their friendship by this breach of hospitality, ordered a guard to be placed upon Hannibal, with an intention of delivering him up. The old general, thus implacably persecuted from one country to another, and finding all methods of safety cut off, determined to die: he therefore, desired one of his followers to bring him poison, which he had prepared for this exigence, and while he was preparing to take it,
"Let us rid the Romans," says he, "of their terrors, since they are unwilling to wait for the death of an old man like me: there was a time, when there was more generosity remaining among them, they have been known to guard their enemy from poison, and now they basely send an embassy to seek the life of a banished man, and to make a feeble monarch break the laws of hospitality."
Thus saying, and drinking the poison, he expired, as he had lived, with intrepid bravery.
In the mean time, while these things were doing abroad, the spirit of dissention seemed to rekindle in Rome. In the third year after ending the war with Antiochus, the tribunes of the people undertook to accuse Scipio Africanus of defrauding the treasury of the plunder which was taken in war, and of too intimate a correspondence with that king. Accordingly, a day was set him by the tribunes to answer for his conduct. Scipio appeared at the appointed time, but instead of attempting a defence, he reminded his countrymen, that on that very day he had gained the victory of Zama. This struck the assembly of the people so strongly, that they all left the tribunes in the Forum, and went to attend Scipio to the Capitol, to return their annual thanks to the gods for the victory. The tribunes finding themselves disappointed here, were resolved to accuse him in the senate, and desired, that he should bring his accounts to answer to their charge. Scipio, instead of gratifying them even in this, tore his accounts before them, and soon after withdrew to Linternum, a town on the coast of Campania, where he spent the rest of his life in peace and privacy: he lived however, but three years longer, testifying his displeasure against his countrymen, by the epitaph which he ordered to be engraved on his tomb:
"Ungrateful country, my very bones shall not rest among you."
This was the same year on which Hannibal died, as also Philopoemen, a Grecian
general, who was reckoned equal to either of the former.
The factious spirit which was now excited in the republic continued for some years, during all their subsequent wars and victories over the Ligurians, Istrians, Sardinians, Corsicans, and Macedonians, for the Romans soon after entered into a second Macedonian war. This was with
Perseus the son of Philip, the king of that country, whom we have already seen obliged to beg a peace of the Romans. Perseus, in order to secure the crown, had contrived to murder his brother Demetrius, and upon the death of his father, pleased with the hopes of imaginary triumphs, made war against Rome. During the course of this war, which continued about three years, many opportunities were offered him of cutting off the Roman army, but being perfectly ignorant of making his advantage of their rashness, he spent the time in empty overtures for a peace. At length, Aemilius gave him a decisive overthrow near the river Enipeus. He attempted to procure safety by flying into Crete, but being abandoned by all, he was obliged to surrender himself, and to grace the splendid triumph of the Roman general. He was led, with his two sons, before the conqueror's chariot, into Rome; while Gentius, king of the Illyrians, and his confederates, was in the same manner led captive, before the chariot of Lucius Amicius, one of the Roman admirals.
These wars, which brought immense riches into the Roman treasury, were no sooner finished▪ than they found a pretext to enter upon the third and last Punic war. Carthage was now a state that only subsisted by the mercy of the conquerors, and was to fall at the slightest breath of their indignation. About this time, Massinissa, the Numidian, having made some incursions into a territory claimed by the Carthaginians, they attempted to repel the invasion. This brought on a war between that monarch and them, while the Romans, who pretended to consider this conduct of theirs as an infraction of the treaty, sent to them to make complaint. The ambassadors who were employed upon this occasion finding the city very rich and flourishing, from the long interval of peace which it had now enjoyed for near fifty years, either from motives of avarice to possess its plunder, or from fear of its growing greatness, insisted much on the necessity of a war. Among the chief of these was Cato, who never spoke in the senate upon public business, but he ended his speech, by inculcating the necessity of destroying Carthage. It was in vain that he was opposed by Nasica, who with more sagacious forecast urged the danger of destroying a rival state, that still would be an incentive to Roman discipline. Cato's opinion prevailed, and the senate having a fair pretence to begin, ordered war to be proclaimed, and the consuls set out with a thorough resolution utterly to demolish Carthage.
The Carthaginians, now too late, perceived the wisdom of Hannibal, who had foreseen the consequences of their conduct, but it was not till they had found their want of him. Affrighted at the Roman preparations, (for they had, during this long period, been only intent on amassing private wealth, and no way careful for public safety) they immediately condemned those who had broken the league, and most humbly offered any reasonable satisfaction. To these submissions, the senate only returned an evasive answer, demanding three hundred hostages within thirty days, as a security for their future conduct, and an implicit obedience to their further commands. With these articles it was supposed the Carthaginians would not comply, but it turned out otherwise, for this infatuated people desiring peace on any terms, sent their children within the limitted time, and the consuls landing at Utica soon after, were waited upon by deputies from Carthage, to know the senate's further demands, as certain of a ready compliance. Upon this, the Roman generals were not a little perplexed, in what manner to force them into disobedience; wherefore Censorinus the consul, commending their diligence, demanded all their arms; but these also, contrary to expectation, they delivered up. At last, they found that the conquerors would not desist making demands, while the vanquished had any thing left to supply. They now therefore received orders to leave their city, which was to be levelled with the ground, being granted, at the same time, permission to build another, in any part of their territories, within ten miles of the sea. This severe command they received with all the concern and distress of a despairing people: they implored for a respite from such an hard sentence; they used tears and lamentations,: but finding the consuls inexorable, they departed with a gloomy resolution, prepared to suffer the utmost extremities, and to fight to the last for their seat of empire, and ancient habitation.
Upon returning home, and divulging the ill success of their commission, a general spirit of resistance seemed to inspire the whole people; they now, too late began to see the danger of riches in a state, when it had no longer power to defend them. Those vessels therefore, of gold and silver which their luxury had taken such pride in, were converted into arms, as they had given up their iron, which was in their present circumstances, the most precious metal. The women parted also with their ornaments, and even cut off their hair to be converted into strings for the bowmen. Asdrubal, who had been lately condemned for opposing the Romans, was now taken from prison to head their army; and such preparations were made, that when the consuls came before the city, which they expected to find an easy conquest, they met such resistance, as quite dispirited their forces, and shook their resolution. Several engagements were fought before the walls, with disadvantage to the assailants, so that the siege would have been discontinued, had not Scipio Aemilianus, the adopted son of Africanus, who was now appointed to command it, used as much skill to save his forces after a defeat, as to inspire them with fresh hopes of victory. But all his arts would have failed, had he not found means to seduce Phar
e
s, the master of the Carthaginian horse, who came over to his side. He from that time went on successfully; that part of Carthage called Megara, was the first that was taken, while the inhabitants were driven into the citadel. He then secured the isthmus which led to the city, and thus cut off all supplies of provisions from the country. He next blocked up the haven, but the besieged, with incredible industry, cut out a new passage into the sea, whereby, at certain times, they could receive necessaries from
army without. That army therefore, was t be subdued, ere the city could be thoroughly invested. Wherefore, Scipio set upon them in the beginning of the ensuing winter, killed seventy thousand of their men, and took ten thousand prisoners of war. The unhappy townsmen, now bereft of all external succour, resolved upon every extremity, rather than submit: but they soon saw the enemy make nearer approaches; the wall which led to the haven was quickly demolished; soon after, the Forum itself was taken, which offered the conquerors, a deplorable spectacle of houses tottering to the fall, heaps of men lying dead beneath, hundreds of the wounded struggling to emerge from the carnage around them, and deploring their own and their country's ruin. The citadel soon after surrendered at discretion. All now but the temple was subdued, and that was defended by deserters, and those who had been most forward to undertake the war. These however, expecting no mercy, and finding their condition desperate, set fire to the building, and voluntarily perished in the flames. Asdrubal the Carthaginian general delivered himself up to the Romans, when the citadel was taken, but his wife and two children rushed into the temple while yet on fire, and expired with their country. Then was this magnificent city laid in ashes by the merciless conquerors, and so extensive was it, being twenty-four miles in compass, that the burning continued for seventeen days together. The senate of Rome ordered that no part of it should be rebuilt; it was demolished to the ground, so that travellers are unable to say where Carthage stood, at this day. All the cities which assisted Carthage in this war, were ordered to share the same fate, and the lands belonging to them were given to the friends of the Romans. The other towns of Afric became tributary to Rome, and were governed by an annual praetor; while the numberless captives who were taken in the course of this war, were sold as slaves, except some few, who were adjudged to die by the hands of the executioner. This was the end of one of the most renowned cities in the world, both for arts, opulence, and extent of dominion; it had rivalled Rome for above an hundred years, and at one time, was thought to have the superiority. But all the grandeur of Carthage was founded on commerce alone, which is ever fluctuating, and at best, serves to dress up a nation, to invite conquest, and only to adorn the victim for its destruction.
This conquest over Carthage, was soon followed by many over other states. Corinth, one of the noblest cities of Greece, in the same year, sustained the same fate, being entered by Mummius the consul, and levelled to the ground. The pretext for this violence was, that the Achaeans had declared war against the Lacedaemonians, who were in alliance with Rome. Metellus the consul, in consequence of this, drawing his army into Baeotia, overthrew their general Critolaus, and Mummius succeeding him in the command, overthrew Dicas, the Achean general, and in consequence entered and demolished Corinth, the spoils of which afterwards, not a little contributed to embellish Rome. Spain, though at first victorious, was soon after entirely subdued. Viriatus the Spanish commander, who, from a shepherd became a robber, and from that, a general over a numerous body of men like himself, gave the Romans some trouble, but was taken off by the basest treachery. Caepio, the Roman general, having bribed his own ambassadors, who were sent to treat of a peace, to murder their master in his bed, upon their return. Quintus Pompeius and Mancianus also gained no greater honour, by combating this brave people: they were both obliged, in order to save their armies, to make so disadvantageous a treaty, that the senate, by a mean subterfuge, sent back Mancianus bound, for concluding upon terms, with which they refused to concur. Lepidus also was equally unsuccessful, for setting upon the Vaccaei, an harmless and peaceable people of that country, he was entirely defeated. At last however, Scipio, who had destroyed Carthage, (and who now, like the former of that name, was also surnamed Africanus) being made consul, restored the fortune of Rome, and laying siege to Numantia, the strongest city in Spain, the wretched inhabitants, to avoid falling into the hands of the enemy, fired the city over their own heads, and all, to a man, expired in the flames: thus Spain became a province to Rome, and was governed thenceforward by two annual praetors. From this treatment given to the conquered, we see how very different the Romans were from their ancestors, whose boast it was, to use lenity to those whom they had subdued. But few nations can withstand the intoxication of success, as they began to consider the whole world as their own, they resolved to treat all those who withstood their arms, not as opposers, but revolters.
CHAP. XVIII. From the destruction of Carthage to the end of the sedition of the Gracchi.
WE have hitherto seen this great people, by
U. C.
621
slow degrees, rising into power, and at length, reigning without a rival. We have hitherto seen all the virtues which give strength and conquest, one by one, entering into the state, and forming an unconquerable empire. From this time forward, we are to survey a different picture; a powerful state, giving admission to all the vices that tend to divide, enslave, and at last, totally destroy it. This seems to be the great period of Roman power, their conquests afterwards, might be more numerous, and their dominions more extensive, but their extension was rather an increase of glory, than of strength. For a long time, even after the admission of their vices, the benefits of their former virtues continued to operate; but their future triumphs rather spread their power, than increased it, they rather gave it surface than solidity. They now began daily to degenerate from their ancient modesty, plainness, and severity of life. The triumphs and the spoils of Asia, brought in a taste for splendid expence, and these produced avarice and inverted ambition, so that from henceforward, the history seems that of another people.
The two Gracchi were the first who saw this strange corruption among the great, and resolved to repress it, by renewing the Licinian law, which, as we have seen, had enacted, that no person in the state should possess above five hundred acres of land, but that the overplus should become the property of the state. Tiberius Gracchus, the elder of the two, was a person very considerable both for the advantages of his body, and the qualities of his mind. Very different from Scipio, of whom he was the grandson, he seemed more ambitious of power, than desirous of glory: he had a mind fonder of embracing novelties, than of advancing or supporting establishments already made: his contempt of money was apparent, and this only served to lessen his power in a country, that now began to set an immoderate value on riches: his compassion for the oppressed, was equal to his animosity against the oppressors: but unhappily his passions, rather than his reason, operated even in his pursuits of virtue, and these always drove him beyond the line of duty: his designs seemed, in the main, honest, but opposition put his intentions into disorder, and though he began with principles of justice, he was at last obliged to exchange his rectitude, for his party. This was the disposition of the elder Gracchus, who found the lower part of the people, (for the distinction between patrician and plebeian, was now no more) ready to second all his proposals. These, after long services to the state, found themselves exposed to the oppressions of the rich, who by wresting the laws, of which they had the management in their own favour, seized upon all the property, and left the poor only the danger and fatigue of defending it. Their continual injuries however, had alienated the hearts of the multitude, which they concealed, or thought it their duty to suffer; while the senate, unjust, corrupt, and mercenary, were only intent on covering their internal meanness, by the dignity of their conquests abroad. This was the state of parties, when Tiberius Gracchus procured himself to be chosen tribune of the people. It was he that had formerly attempted to retrench the power of Scipio Africanus, and had set him a day to answer before the people; and that now prevailed for preferring the Licinian law, by which it was prohibited, that any person should possess above five hundred acres of land. But willing to prevent this law being wrested to the advantage of the great, as it had hitherto been, he caused it to be enacted also, that one half or the illicit surplus should be given to the children of the transgressor, and the other half given to such of the poor as had nothing; and lest any, by purchase, should enlarge their possessions, three officers were appointed, called the Triumviri, who were to determine and examine the quantity of land occupied by every individual. This law, though at first carried on with proper moderation, greatly disgusted the rich, who endeavoured to persuade the people, that the proposer only aimed at disturbing the government, and putting all things into confusion. But Gracchus, who was a man of the greatest eloquence of his time, easily wiped off these impressions, from minds already irritated with their wrongs▪ and besides, willing enough to forward a law, by which they were to be the only gainers. But while the poor were eager for passing this law, the rich were equally strenuous in opposing it. What was in the beginning but debate, by degrees grew into enmity, and the opposition seemed to kindle as it proceeded. Octavius, one of the tribunes who opposed the law, was partly by art, and partly by violence, obliged to resign, while Mummius, who was in the opposite confederacy, was elected tribune in his stead. The death of Attalus, king of Pergamus, furnished Tiberius Gracchus with a new opportunity of gratifying the meaner part of the people, at the expence of the great. This king had by his last will left the Romans his he rs, and it was now proposed, that the money so left, should be divided among the poor, in order to furnish them with proper utensils for cultivating the lands which became theirs by the late law of partition. This caused still greater disturbances than before: the senate assembled upon this occasion, in order to consult the most proper methods of securing these riches to themselves, which they now valued above the safety of the commonwealth: they had numemerous dependants, who were willing to give up liberty for plenty and ease: these therefore, were commanded to to be in readiness, to intimidate the people, who expected no such opposition, and who were now attending to the harrangue of Tiberius Gracchus in the Capitol. Here, as a clamour was raised by the clients of the great on one side, and by the favourers of the law on the other, Tiberius found his speech intirely interrupted, and begged in vain to be attended to, till at last, raising his hand to his head, to intimate that his life was in danger, the partizans of the senate gave out, that he wanted a diadem. In consequence of this, an universal uproar now spread itself through all ranks of people; the corrupt part of the senate were of opinion, that the consul should defend the commonwealth by force of arms; but this prudent magistrate declining such violence, Scipio Nasica, kinsman to Gracchus, rose up, and preparing himself for the contest, desired that all who would defend the dignity and the authority of the laws, should follow him. Upon this, attended by a large body of senators and clients, armed with clubs, he went directly up to the Capitol, striking down all who ventured to resist. Gracchus perceiving by the tumult, that his life was sought for, endeavoured to fly, and throwing aside his robe to expedite his escape, attempted to get through the throng, but happening to fall over a person already on the ground, Saturinus, one of his colleagues in the tribuneship, who was of the opposite faction, struck him dead with a piece of a seat; and not less than three hundred of his hearers shared the same fate, being killed in the tumult. Nor did the vengeance of the senate rest here, but extended to numbers of those who seemed to espouse his cause, many of them were put to death, many were banished, and nothing was omitted to inspire the people with an abhorrence for his pretended crimes.
These dissensions, though for a little while interrupted by a victory gained by Aristonicus, bastard brother to the late king of Pergamus, and pretender to his crown, over the Roman consul, Licinius Crassus, were soon renewed again. For Aristonicus being overthrown by Perpenna, the consul, then besieged in Stratonice, and compelled by famine to surrender, was, after gracing the conqueror's triumph, strangled in prison by order of the senate, which afforded an opportunity to the people, for renewing the former animosities, headed by Caius Gracchus, the brother of him who was slain.
Caius Gracchus was but twenty-one upon the death of his brother Tiberius, and as he was too young to be much dreaded by the great, so he was at first unwilling to incur their resentment, by aims beyond his reach; he therefore lived in retirement, unseen and almost forgotten. But while he thus seemed desirous of avoiding popularity, he was employing his solitude in the study of eloquence, which was the readiest means to obtain it: at length, when he thought himself qualified to serve his country, he offered himself candidate for the questorship to the army in Sardinia, which he readily obtained. His valour, affability, and temperance in this office was remarked by all. The king of Numidia sending a present of corn to the Romans, ordered his ambassadors to say, that it was entirely as a tribute to the virtues of Caius Gracchus. This the senate treated with scorn, and ordered the ambassadors to be dismissed with contempt, as ignorant barbarians, which so inflamed the resentment of young Gracchus, that he immediately came from the army, to complain of the indignity thrown upon his reputation, and to offer himself for tribune of the people It was then that the great found in this youth, who had been hitherto neglected upon account of his age, a more formidable antagonist, than even his brother had been; his eloquence against the calumnies which were laid to his charge, exceeded whatever had been heard in Rome, and his intrepidity in supporting his pretensions equalied the rest of his virtues. Notwithstanding the warmest opposition from the senate, he was declared tribune, by a very large majority, and he now prepared to run the same career which his brother had gone before him.
His first effort was to have Popilius, one of the most inveterate of his brother's enemies, cited before the the people, who, rather than stand the event of a trial, chose to go into voluntary banishment. He next procured an edict, granting the freedom of the city to the inhabitants of Latium, and soon after, to all the people on that side the Alps. He afterwards fixed the price of corn to a moderate standard, and procured a monthly distribution of it among the people. He then proceeded to an inspection into the late corruptions of the senate, in which the whole body being convicted of bribery, extortion, and the sale of offices, for at that time a total degeneracy seemed to have taken place, a law was made, transferring the power of judging corrupt magistrates, from the senate to the knights, which made a great alteration in the constitution. The number of these officers, thus placed as inspectors over the conduct of all the other magistrates of the state, amounted to three hundred, and they were chosen from among the friends of Gracchus. Thus, ever attentive to the good of the commonwealth, he ordered the highways to be improved and adorned; he caused public granaries to be built, and stored with grain against times of scarcity; and to give a pattern of justice to the people, he caused large quantities of corn, which Fabius the propraetor in Spain had extorted from his government, and had presented as a largess to the people, to be sold, and the money remitted to the injured owners. In short, on whatever side we view the character of this great man, we shall find him just, temperate, wise, active, and seemingly, born to restore the ancient simplicity of Rome. However, historians pretend to assert, that all his aims were to extend his own power, and that all his virtues were but the children of his ambition. These assertions however, do not seem verified in any of the actions of his life, which they have recorded; however, it is not for the moderns to dispute with ancient historians upon characters of antiquity; they knew best the men of their own times, and perhaps, have often condemned them in the gross for defects, which they thought not worth while to mention in the detail.
Gracchus, by these means being grown not only very popular, but very powerful in the state, was become an object, at which the senate aimed all their resentment. At first, they seemed to wait only till his tribuneship expired, in order to wreck their vengeance with safety, but contrary to their expectations, he was chosen a second time to that office, though without the least efforts on his side to get himself re-elected. They now therefore resolved to alter their method of proceeding, and endeavoured to oppose his popularity by setting up a rival. This was Drusus his colleague, who seemed to go even beyond Gracchus in every proposal, and being secretly backed by the senate, so far succeeded in his schemes, as to divide the affections of the people. The jealousy of Gracchus on this occasion, quickly blazed out, he treated his colleague with contempt, and as the senate foresaw, it caused a very powerful party of his former admirers, now to declare against him. But the greatest effort to undo him was yet in reserve. For from the time of his return to Rome from Sardinia, he had been elected one of the Triumviri, an office, which as I have mentioned before, was appointed by his brother Tiberius, to determine the quantity of land possessed by each individual in the state. In this employment Gracchus shewed himself extremely assiduous, and impressed with the same spirit of equality that inspired his brother, endeavoured to regulate each man's possessions, according to the Licinian law, with inflexible justice. Those who thought themselves aggrieved by his severity, had recourse to Scipio Africanus for redress. Scipio, who had been long an enemy to this law, was too sensible of the people's power, to oppose it directly, but proceeding with more art, obtained a new officer to be chosen, whose business it was to settle the claims of individuals amongst each other, before those of the publick could be determined by the Triumviri. For this purpose, Tuditanus the consul was chosen, who thus having a power of protracting the wished-for division of lands, for a while, seemed to bend assiduously to the business for which he was chosen. However, when he could no longer defer the settlement of the lands in question, he pretended to be called off to quell an insurrection in one of the provinces, and thus left the claims and the wishes of the people undecided. An universal murmur now therefore rose against Scipio, by whose arts the execution of the law was protracted, and one of the tribunes even cited him to appear, and give an account how Tiberius Gracchus came to be slain. Scipio however, disdained to answer the charge, but went home, as some thought, to meditate a speech for the ensuing day, but in the morning he was found dead in his bed, and by a mark round his neck, it appeared that he was strangled. The death of this great man produced much suspicion against the leaders of the popular party, but Gracchus particularly came in for the greatest share. He however, disdained to vindicate himself from a crime, of which there were no proofs against him; but willing to turn the thoughts of the people another way, proposed the rebuilding of Carthage, and peopling it from Rome. This scheme was gladly embraced by the people, and six thousand families, with Gracchus at their head, left the city, in order to settle there. However, they had scarce begun to clear away the rubbish, when they were disturbed by several omens, which to a superstitious people, was sufficient to check the progress of every undertaking. But much more powerful motives called Gracchus back to Rome, for his enemies, during his absence, used all their art to blacken his character, so that he found himself obliged to return, in order to support his party, and remove those prejudices which had been formed in the minds of the people to his disadvantage. But he soon found the populace a faithless and unsteady support, they began to withdraw all their confidence from him, and to place it upon Drusus, whose character was unimpeached. It was in vain, that he designed new laws in their favour, and called up several of the inhabitants of the different towns of Italy to his support, the senate ordered them all to depart Rome, and even sent one stranger to prison whom Gracchus had invited to live with him, and honoured with his table and friendship. To this indignity was shortly after added a disgrace of a more fatal tendency, for standing for the tribuneship a third time, he was rejected, it being supposed, that the officers whose duty it was to make the
eturn, were bribed to reject him, though fairly chosen.
The senate no sooner saw Gracchus reduced to a private station, than they determined to destroy him, and deputed Opimius the consul, who was his mortal enemy, to be the instrument of their malignity against him. The consul, who, beside the greatest pride, was possessed of the utmost cruelty, undertook the office with great readiness, and first annulled those laws, which were made for establishing a colony at Carthage. He then proceeded to abrogate all the other laws which had been made during his two tribuneships, and set a day for a general assembly of the people for that purpose.
It was now seen, that the fate of Gracchus was resolved on. The consul was not contented with the protection of all the senate and the knights, with a numerous retinue of slaves and clients, but ordered a body of Candians, that were mercenaries in the Roman service, to follow and attend him. Thus guarded, and conscious of the superiority of his forces, he insultted Gracchus wherever he met him, doing all in his power to produce a quarrel, in which he might have a pretence of dispatching his enemy in the fray. Gracchus however, avoided all recrimination, and as if apprized of the consul's designs, would not even wear any kind of arms for his defence. His friend Flaccus however, a zealous tribune, was not so remiss, but resolved to oppose party against party, and for this purpose brought up several countrymen to Rome, who came under a pretence of desiring employment. When the day for determining the controversy was arrived, the two parties, early in the morning, attended at the Capitol, where while the consul was sacrificing, according to custom, one of the lictors taking up the entrails of the beast that was slain, in order to remove them, could not forbear crying out to Fulvius and his party,
"You, ye factious citizens, make way for honest men."
This insult so provoked the party to whom it was addressed, that they instantly fell upon him, and pierced him to death with the instruments they used in writing, which they then happened to have in their hands. This murder caused a great disturbance in the assembly, but particularly Gracchus, who saw the consequences that were likely to ensue, reprimanded his party for giving his enemies such advantage over him; he made many attempts to speak, but could not be heard by reason of the tumult, wherefore he was at last obliged to retire homewards, and wait the event. As he was going through the Forum, he stopped before a statue that was raised to his father's memory, and regarding it for some time, he burst into a flood of tears, as if deploring the spirit of the times. His followers were not less moved than he, and all joining in the sorrow, vowed never to abandon a man whose only crime was his affection to his country. In the mean time, the senate took every method to allarm the city, and encrease their apprehensions of the danger. The consul was directed, that the commonwealth should receive no injury, by which form they invested him upon this slight occasion, with absolute and uncontroulable power. The dead lictor's corse was carried in triumph through the streets, and exposed to view before the senate-house, and the whole body of the nobles received orders, to be in arms the next day, with their slaves and dependants, upon Mount Aventine. On the other side, Flaccus was sedulously employed in getting together the remains of his shattered partisans; but it was not at present as in the former commotions of the commonwealth, when the plebeians were to be excited agaist the patricians, for those distinctions were long broken down; it was now only an opposition between the poor and the rich, and the depressed party were of consequence timorous and unconnected, as if already humbled by their imperious masters. Gracchus, who easily foresaw his weakness, was however resolved not to abandon his friends, though he knew them to be unable to resist his opponents. Notwithstanding, he refused to go armed as the rest, but taking his usual robe, and a short dagger for his defence, in case of being attacked, he prepared to lead his followers to Mount Aventine. It was there he learned, that proclamation had been made by the consuls, that whoever should bring either his head, or that of Flaccus, should receive its weight in gold for the reward. It was to no purpose, that he sent the youngest son of Flaccus, who was yet a child, with proposals for an accommodation. The senate and the consuls, who were sensible of their superiority, rejected all his offers, and resolved to punish his offence with nothing less than his death; and in order to weaken his party, they offered pardon to all who should leave him immediately. This produced the desired effect, the people fell from him by degrees, and left him with very inferior forces. He now therefore, resolved to wait upon the senate in person, but his friends would not permit him, through an apprehension of losing their commander. The child of Flaccus was therefore sent once more to demand peace; but Opimius the consul, who thirsted for slaughter, ordered it to prison, and leading his forces up to Mount Aventine, fell in among the crowd with ungovernable fury. A terrible slaughter of the scarce resisting multitude ensued, not less than three thousand citizens were slain upon the spot. Flaccus attempted to find shelter in a ruinous cottage, but being discovered, was slain, with his eldest son. Gracchus, at first, retired to the temple of Diana, where he was resolved to die by his own hand, but was prevented by two of his faithful friends and followers, Pomponius and Licinius, who forced him to seek safety by flight. From thence he made the best of his way in order to cross a bridge, that led from the city, still attended by his two generous friends, and a Grecian slave, whose name was Philocrates. But his pursuers still pressed upon him from behind, and when come to the foot of the bridge, he was obliged to turn and face the enemy. His two friends were soon slain, defending him against the crowd, and he forced with his slave into a grove beyond the Tyber, which had long been dedicated to the Furies. Here finding himself surrounded on every side, and no way left of escaping, he prevailed upon his slave to kill him, who immediately after killed himself, and fell down dead upon the body of his beloved master. The pursuers soon coming up, cut off the head of Gracchus, and placed it for a while as a trophy, upon a spear. Soon after, one Septimuleius carrying it home, first having secretly taken out the brain, filled it with lead, in order to make it weigh the heavier, and thus received of the consul seventeen pounds of gold as his recompence.
Thus died Caius Gracchus, about ten years after his brother Tiberius, and six after he began to be active in the commonwealth. He is usually impeached by historians, as guilty of sedition, but from what we see of his character, the disturbance of public tranquility, was rather owing to his opposers, than to him, so that instead of calling the tumults of that time, the sedition of the Gracchi, we should rather call them the sedition of the senate against the Gracchi, since the efforts of the latter were made in vindication of a law, to which the senate had assented, and as the former were supported by a foreign armed power, that had never before meddled in the business of legislation, and whose introduction at that time, gave a most irrecoverable blow to the constitution. Whether the Gracchi were actuated by motives of ambition or of patriotism, in the promulgation of these laws, it is impossible to determine, but certain it is from what appears, that all justice was on their side, and all injury on that of the senate. In fact, this body was now quite changed from that venerable assembly, which we have seen overthrowing Pyrrhus and Hannibal, as much by their virtues, as their arms. They were now only to be distinguished from the rest of the people by their superior luxuries, and ruled the commonwealth by the weight of that authority, which is gained from riches, and a number of mercenary dependancies. All the venal and the base were attached to them from motives of self-interest, and they who still ventured to be independant, were borne down, and entirely lost in the infamous majority. In short, the empire, at this period, came under the government of an hateful aristocracy; the tribunes, who were formerly accounted protectors of the people, becoming rich themselves, and having no longer opposite interests from those of the senate, concurred in their oppressions, since, as has been said, it was not now the struggle between patricians and plebeians, who only nominally differed, but between the rich and the poor. The lower orders of the state being by these means reduced to a degree of hopeless subjection, instead of looking after liberty, only sought for a leader; while the rich, with all the suspicion of tyrants, terrified at the slightest appearance of opposition, entrusted men with uncontroulable power, from whom they had not strength to withdraw it, when the danger was over. Thus both parts of the state concurred in giving up their freedom; the fears of the senate first made the dictator, and the hatred of the people kept him in his office. Nothing can be more dreadful to a thinking mind than the government of Rome from this period, till it
ound refuge under the protection of Augustus.
CHAP. XIX. From the sedition of Gracchus to the perpetual dictatorship of Sylla, which was the first step towards the ruin of the commonwealth of Rome.
WHILE the Romans were in this state of deplorable corruption at home, they nevertheless were very successful in their transactions with regard to foreign powers. The senate, though corrupt fathers of the commonwealth, were skillful conductors of the empire, so that Rome. while she was losing liberty, was every day gaining new territories. The Bal
aric Islands were subdued. The Allobroges, who inhabited the country now called Savoy, were conquered by Domitius Aenobarbus and annexed to the empire. Gallia Narbonensis was also reduced into a province. The Scordici, a
U. C.
634
people inhabiting Thrace, though at first successful, were at last overcome: and Jugurtha, king of Numidia, was totally overthrown: the war with this monarch having been related by the most elegant historian of antiquity, makes it incumbent upon us to give it greater room in this general picture of history, than the importance of the subject might seem to demand.
Jug
ha was grandson to the famous Massinissa, who sided against Hannibal with Rome. He was educated with the two young princes, who were left to inherit the kingdom, and being superior in abilities to both, and greatly in favour with the people, he murdered Hiempsal, the eldest son, and attempted the same by Adherbal the younger, who made his escape, and fled to the Romans for succour. Whereupon, Jugurtha being sensible how much avarice and injustice had crept into the senate, sent his ambassadors with large presents to Rome, who so successfully prevailed, that the senate decreed him half the kingdom, which he had thus acquired by murder and usurpation, and sent ten commissioners to divide it between him and Adherbal. The commissioners, of whom Opimius the murderer of Gracchus was one, willing to follow the example which the senate had set them, were also bribed to bestow the most rich and populous part of the kingdom upon the usurper, who however resolved to possess himself of the whole. But willing to give a colour to his ambition, he only made in the beginning incursions upon his colleague's territories, in order to provoke reprisals, which he knew how to convert into seeming aggression, in case it came before the senate. This however failing, he resolved to throw off the mask, and besieging Adherbal in Cirta, his capital, he at length got him into his power and murdered him. The people of Rome,
ho had still some generosity remaining, unanimously complained of this treachery; the senate only, who had been bribed to silence, continued for a while in suspense. However, a consul was sent, at last, with a powerful army, to oppose him, but he being also infected with the avarice of the times, suffered himself to be bribed, and suspending his operations, made overtures for peace. The people therefore, now more enraged than before, procured a decree, that Jugurtha should be summoned in person before them, upon the public faith of the state, in order to give an account of all such as had accepted bribes. Jugurtha made no great difficulty in throwing himself upon the clemency of Rome, and soon after appeared before the people in an imploring manner, and in a dress corresponding with his situation. However, instead of discovering those who were bribed, he only set about renewing the evil complained of, and being sensible, that all opinions were venal at Rome, without much endeavouring to influence any by the justice of his cause, he took the more certain method of interesting them, by the distribution of
is riches. Wherefore, when brought to be examined by the people, concerning his unjust method of obtaining the protection of the magistrates, who were sent to oppose him, Bebius, one of the tribunes, who had been himself corrupted, enjoined him silence, so that the longwished-for discovery was protracted. The people thus seeing no hopes of exposing and punishing their corrupt magistrates, put no bounds to their resentment, and conceived an implacable enmity against the senate, which, as it was just, was the more lasting. In the mean time, Jugurtha being ordered to quit Rome, obeyed. However, he could not repress a sarcasm against its venality, as he took leave, for looking back upon the city, as he past through one of the gates,
"O Rome, cried he, how readily wouldst thou sell thyself, if there were any man rich enough to be the purchaser."
As he had come to Rome upon the faith of the state, so that protected him till he arrived at his own dominions; but in the mean time, Albinus the consul was sent with an army to follow him. The first operations of the Roman general were attended with success, and Jugurtha finding his own inability to oppose him in the field, set about circumventing him in the cabinet. New proposals for peace were made on his side; he was every day offering himself up as a prisoner, and yet every day securing his power in the state. Albinus thus saw himself perplexed by treaties, which he could not comprehend, and the time of his command almost insensibly elapsed, without having struck any important blow. Being obliged to return, to attend the election of magistrates at Rome, he left the direction of the army to Aulus, his brother, a person every way unqualified for the command. His avarice induced him to lay siege to Suthul, a place almost impregnable by nature, and only inviting the enemy, because it contained the treasure of the king. Jugurtha, conscious of the strength of the place, suffered Aulus to amuse himself before it, and at one time pretending fear, at another, offering terms of accommodation, but still lavishing his bribes even to the meanest centurion, he led his antagonist into such straits, that he was compelled to hazard a battle upon disadvantageous terms, and his whole army, to avoid being cut to pieces, was obliged to pass under the yoke. In this condition, Metellus, the succeeding consul, found affairs, upon his arrival in Numidia. Officers without confidence, an army without discipline, and an enemy ever watchful, and ever intriguing. However, by his great attention to business, and by an integrity, that shuddered at corruption, he soon began to retrieve the affairs of Rome, and the credit of the army. In the space of two years, Jugurtha was overthrown in several battles, forced out of his own dominions, and constrained to beg a peace. This, Metellus offered to grant, upon condition, that he should first deliver up his elephants and arms. With this the Numidian prince complied, and they were delivered up accordingly. He was then commanded to pay two hundred thousand pound weight of silver to defray the war: this was immediately paid down. The deserters were next ordered to be given up: this too was complied with. At length, the Roman general insisted, that Jugurtha should come and surrender in person, and put himself upon his trial at Rome. With this he refused to comply, and thus the treaty being broken, both sides resolved once more to tempt the hazards of the war. All things however, promised Metellus an easy and a certain victory; the enemy was almost entirely subdued; few cities remained that could make resistance, and all the wiles of the Numidian were exhausted with his treasures. It only remained, towards concluding the war in triumph, that Metellus should be chosen consul once more, but in this he was disappointed, and another general came in, to reap that harvest of glory which his industry had sown. This was Caius Marius, who had been sent with him as his lieutenant in the war. This commander, who became afterwards the glory and the scourge of Rome, was born in a village near Arpinium, of poor parents, who gained their living by their labour. As he had been bred up in a participation of their toils, his manners were as rude, as his countenance was frightful. He was a man of extraordinary stature, incomparable strength, and undaunted bravery. He entered early into the service of his country, and was, from the beginning, remarkable for his exact observance of discipline, and his implicit obedience to those in command. He sought upon every occasion, dangers equal to his courage; the longest marches, and the most painful fatigues of war, were easy to one bred up in penury and labour. He was not more averse to the allurements of pleasure, from habit, than by nature. He took all occasions to inspire temperance by his example; eat the same bread which was distributed to the meanest centinel; lay upon the ground; dressed in the coarsest garments, and seemed dead to every other passion, but that of ambition and revenge. He had already passed through the meaner gradations of office, and each seemed conferred on him, as the reward of some signal exploit. When he stood for the office of military tribune, though his person was unknown, his actions were in the mouths of the multitude. When elected to that charge, his general found his merit and assistance so great, that he seconded him with his interest, in procuring him to be made a tribune of the people. It was in this station, that his ambition began to appear, and his thorough detestation of the senate, whose vices indeed deserved his reproaches, became conspicuous. Not to be intimidated by their threats, he boldly arraigned their corruption even in the senate-house, and when Metellus, who till then had patronized and raised him, disapproved his zeal, he even threatened to commit him to prison. However, being afterwards sent under him as his lieutenant into Numidia, Metellus preferred the interest of his country to private resentment, and trusted Marius with the most important concerns of the war. This confidence was not misplaced, Marius acquitted himself in every action with such prudence and resolution, that he was considered at Rome, as second in command, but first in experience and resolution. It was in this situation of affairs, that Metellus, as has been said, was obliged to sollicit at Rome for a continuation of his command; but Marius, whose ambition knew no bounds, was resolved to obtain it for himself, and thus gain all the glory of putting an end to the war. To that end he privately inveighed against Metellus by his emissaries at Rome. He insinuated among the people, that the war was prolonged, only to lengthen out the consul's command, and asserted, that he was able, with half the army, to make Jugurtha a prisoner; engaging also, in a single campaign, to bring him dead or alive to Rome. By such professions as these, having excited a spirit of discontent against Metellus, he had leave granted him to go to Rome, to stand for the consulship himself, which he obtained, contrary to the expectation and interest of the nobles.
Marius being thus invested with the supreme power of managing the war, shewed himself every way fit for the commission. His vigilance was equal to his valour, and he quickly made himself master of the cities which Jugurtha had yet remaining in Numidia. This unfortunate prince finding himself unable to make opposition singly, was obliged to have recourse for assistance, to Bocchus, king of Mauritania, to whose daughter he was married. A battle soon after ensued, in which the Numidians surprized the Roman camp by night, and gained a temporary advantage. However, it was but of short continuance, for Marius soon after overthrew them in two signal engagements, in one of which, not less than ninety thousand of the African army were slain. Bocchus now finding the Romans too powerful to be resisted, did not think it expedient to hazard his own crown, to protect that of his ally; he therefore determined to make peace, upon whatever conditions he might obtain it, and accordingly sent to Rome, imploring its protection and friendship. The senate received the ambassadors with their usual haughtiness, and without complying with their request, granted the suppliants, not their friendship but their pardon. However, they were given to understand, that the delivering up of Jugurtha to the Romans, would in some measure conciliate their favour, and soften their resentment. At first the pride of Bocchus struggled against such a proposal, but a few interviews with Sylla, who was quaestor to Marius, reconciled him to this treacherous measure. At length therefore, Jugurtha was given up, being drawn into an ambuscade, by the specious pretences of his ally, who deluded him by desiring a conference, and he was brought over by Marius to Rome. He did not long survive his overthrow, being condemned by the senate to be starved to death in prison, a short time after he had adorned the triumph of the conqueror. His own cruelty, in some measure, deserved this fate, but they must be doubly cruel, who could thus oblige a prisoner, whom they resolved to put to death, to encrease the splendor of a procession, and thus find delight in his distress.
This victory over Jugurtha had been scarce obtained, when news was brought to Rome, that immense numbers of barbarians from the north, were pouring down into the Roman dominions, and were threatening Italy itself with slaughter and desolation. Marius was now looked upon as the only person who could oppose them, and he was accordingly made consul a second time, contray to the constitutions of the state, which required an interval of ten years between each consulship. The people he was to oppose, were the Cimbri and Teutones, who left their forests, to the number of three hundred thousand men, in order to seek new habitations in the fruitful vallies of Italy. They had, some time before, invaded Gaul, where they had committed great ravages, and defeated many Roman armies that were sent against them. Marius however, was entirely successful. He at first declined fighting, till their force was weakened by delay, but afterwards engaging
them as they were passing the Alps, in three seperate bodies, a bloody battle ensued, which lasted two days. In this the Romans were victorious, and Theutobocchus, the king of the Teutones, taken prisoner, with the loss of an hundred and fifty thousand men. But though the Teutones were thus utterly destroyed, the army of the Cimbri still remained entire, and had actually past the Alps, after having put Catulus, the Roman consul to flight. Marius however, being made consul a fifth time (for the people had continued him in office during the former part of the war) met and gave them a
dreadful overthrow. An hundred and forty thousand of these barbarians were slain, and sixty thousand taken prisoners. Their wives, during the engagement, fought furiously in chariots, and at last, when they saw the fortune of the field decided, slew their children, and then with desperate intrepidity, destroyed each other.
Marius, by these victories, having become very formidable to distant nations in war, became soon after much more dangerous to his fellow citizens in peace. Metellus, from being his first patron and promoter, was long grown hateful to him, for his superior influence in the senate, so that he earnestly wished to have him banished from Rome. To effect this, he employed one Saturninus, who had unjustly possessed himself of the tribuneship, to prefer a law for the partition of such lands as had been recovered in the late war, and to oblige the senators to take a solemn oath for putting it into execution, in case it was past. The law was soon enacted by the interest of Marius, but when the senate came to confirm the observance of it, Metellus, who considered it as a renewal of the ancient disturbances that had been so fatal to the constitution, endeavoured to persuade them to reject the measure with disdain. At first they seemed inclined to come into his advice, but the influence of his rival being superior, they were content to swear, and Metellus refusing, was obliged to go into voluntary exile. He was received with great respect by all the cities through which he passed, and taking up his residence in the Island of Rhodes, he there seemed to forget that he was great, and only studied to be happy.
This success only served to encrease the arrogance of Saturninus. Being made tribune a third time, he filled the city with clamour and and commotion. Memmius, who was of the opposite party, was killed in one of these frays, as he canvassed for the consulship, and Glaucius the praetor, was tumultuously chosen in his stead. This seemed as a signal for a general encounter. The senate seemed resolved to curb the insolence of the tribunes: the consuls were ordered, as in dangerous times, to provide for the safety of the commonwealth, and Marius, who was one of them, found himself in the disagreeable situation, of heading a strong body of the senators and patricians, against those very people, whom his own intrigues had put into commotion. Saturninus and his followers were forced into the capitol, where for want of water, they were compelled to yield, after Marius had passed his word for their safety. But he was now unable to protect them, a large body of Roman knights broke into the Forum, and cut them to pieces, while the prevailing party, elate with their success, recalled Metellus from exile.
Marius being thus doubly mortified by the demolition of his party, and the revocation of his rival, left Rome, under pretence of performing a vow, but in reality, with hopes of kindling up new wars in Asia, in which only, his military talents could have room for display. With this view, he went to the court of Mithridates, at that time the most powerful monarch of the East, hoping either to be dismissed with scorn, or received with hospitality. In either case he expected to find his account, if dismissed, it would give a colour for declaring war against him; if received, he would be in a better condition to judge of the strength of his enemy. Mithridates received him with great kindness, and dismissed him loaden with presents to Rome.
In the mean time, the strength which Marius had given the popular party, was not to be destroyed by a single blow: Drusus the tribune, whom we have seen opposing the popularity of Gracchus, seemed now determined to pursue his example. This well-meaning man finding the senators displeased with the judicial power which had been consigned over to the knights, and perceiving the latter also making a very tyrannical use of their authority, he conceived a design of conciliating both, by restoring the senate to its ancient privileges, and raising a large number of the equestrian order into that body. However, what he expected would please both, was disliked by all: the senate was against having their number enlarged; the knights were averse to losing their privileges, and the people were displeased at having the law of Gracchus brought into danger. In order therefore to gain that popularity which he found he had lost by this measure, he once again threatened the great with the revival of the Licinian law; and that the allies and confederates of Italy, who were the present possessors, might share an equivalent, to what this law was likely to deprive them of, he gave them hopes of being admitted to the freedom of Rome. These promises did not fail to produce their effect; the Latin towns now began to look upon him as their protector, and came in vast crowds to the city, to support him. Great contentions arose in consequence of his endeavours. Deliberation had now been long banished from the assemblies of the people; the whole of their laws were enacted or rejected by clamour, violence and sedition. On one of these occasions, Drusus being warmly engaged in promoting the law for enlarging the freedom of the city, he was stabbed by an unknown person, who left his poignard in the wound: Drusus had just strength enough to avow with his dying breath, the integrity of his intentions, and that there was no man in the commonwealth, more sinecrely attached to its interests than he.
The Italians being thus frustrated in their aims of gaining the freedom of Rome, by the death of Drusus, resolved upon obtaining by force, what the senate seemed to refuse them as a favour. This gave rise to the Social war, in which most of the states of Italy entered into a confederacy against Rome, in order to obtain a redress of this, and all the rest of their grievances. Messengers and hostages were privately sent and interchanged amongst them, and upon having their claims rejected by the senate, they soon broke out into open rebellion. The state now saw an hundred thousand of its own soldiers converted against itself, led on by excellent commanders, and disciplined in the Roman manner. To oppose these, an equal body was raised by the senate, and the conduct of the war committed to the consuls, together with Marius, Sylla, and the most experienced generals of the time. The war commenced with great animosity on either side, but the Romans seemed to have the worst of it in the beginning. Rutilius the consul fell into an ambuscade, and was slain. His body being carried into the city, so discouraged the people, that the senate decreed, that thenceforward the bodies of the slain should be buried where they fell. Upon this defeat, the army which he conducted was given to Marius, who rather might be said, not to forfeit his ancient fame, than to acquire new reputation by his conduct during the present command.
After a lapse of two years, this war having continued to rage with doubtful success, the senate began to reflect, that whether conquere
or conquerors, the power of Rome was in danger of being totally destroyed. In order therefore to soften their compliance by degrees, they began by giving the freedom of the city to such of the Italian states as had not revolted. They then offered it to such as would soonest lay down their arms. This unexpected bounty had the desired effect; the allies, with mutual distrust, offered each a separate treaty: the senate took them one by one into favour, but gave the freedom of the city in such a manner, that being empowered to vote, not untill all the other tribes had given their suffrages, they had very little weight in the constitution. In this manner they were made free, all but the Samnites and Lucanians, who seemed excluded from the general compromise, as if to leave Sylla, who commanded against them, the glory of putting an end to the war: this he performed with great conduct, storming their camps, overthrowing them in several battles, and obliging them to submit to such terms as the senate were pleased to impose.
This destructive war being concluded, which as Paterculus says, consumed above three hundred thousand of the flower of Italy, the senate now began to think of turning their arms against Mithridates, the most powerful and warlike monarch of the East. This prince, whose dominions were chiefly composed of the provinces he had conquered, was master of Cappadocia, Bythinia, Thrace, Macedon, and all Greece. He was able to bring two hundred and fifty thousand infantry, into the field, and fifty thousand horse. He had a vast number of armed chariots, and in his ports, four hundred ships of war. Such power joined to so great riches, served only the more to invite the ambition of Rome: they but desired a pretence for a war, which was not long wanting. The pretext was his having invaded and overcome many states that were in alliance with, and under the protection of Rome: his having procured Tigranes, king of Armenia, to declare war against the Romans, together with his continually upbraiding the Roman state with avarice and corruption. Such were the motives that induced them to declare war against this king, it only remained to chuse a general, properly qualified to conduct the expedition.
Marius was the most experienced commander, and ardently wished to go: but Sylla was just chosen consul, and had obtained this dignity, as a recompence for his services in the Social war: his fame now therefore began to equal that of Marius, and he was with general consent appointed to conduct the Asiatic war. This general, who now began to take the lead in the commonwealth, was born of a patrician family, one of the most illustrious in Rome: his person was elegant, his air noble, his manners easy, and apparently sincere: he loved pleasure, but glory still more: his duty still commanded him from sensual delights, which however, he never declined, when he could enjoy them with safety: he desired to please all the world, for which purpose, he talked of himself with modesty, and of every body else with the highest commendations: he was liberal to all, and even prevented those requests, which modesty hesitated to make: stooping, even to an acquaintance with the meanest soldiers, whose manners he sometimes imitated, to gain their affections. In short, he was a Proteus, who could adapt himself to the inclinations, pursuits, follies, or the wisdom of those he conversed with, while he had no character of his own, except that of being a complete dissembler. His first rise was to be quaestor or treasurer of the army under Marius in Numidia, where by his courage and dexterity, he contributed greatly to obtain those advantages which ensued, and it was he particularly, who persuaded Bocchus to give up Jugurtha. He was afterwards chosen proconsul in the Social war, where his actions entirely eclipsed those of every other commander, and he was in consequence of them, now appointed to the government of Asia Minor, a post, which as it promised an immense harvest of glory and riches, was earnestly sought after by Marius.
There were two incentives to the jealousy of Marius, at finding Sylla thus preferred to conduct this war before him. The honours which were likely to be obtained there, and the former pains he had taken to prepare himself for that expedition. He therefore began to consider this preference as an unjust partiality in favour of his rival, and a tacit insult upon all his former victories. He could not help thinking, that his reputation deserved the first offer in all the employments of the state, and he concluded upon depriving Sylla of his new command. To this end, he gained over to his interest, one Sulpicius, a tribune of the people, but chiefly noted for his enmity to Sylla; a man equally eloquent and bold, of great riches but corrupt manners, and rather dreaded than esteemed by the people. The first effect of the conjunction of these ambitious men, was to gain over the Italian towns to their party, and for this purpose they preferred a law, that these should vote, not in the rear of the other tribes, but that they should be indiscriminately possessed of all the same advantages. This law was as warmly opposed by the citizens of Rome, as it was resolutely defended by Marius and Sulpicius, and the states of Italy. A tumult ensued as usual, in which many were slain on one side and the other. This had been scarcely appeased, when another assembly of the people was proposed, for passing the law, contrary to the command of the consuls. This produced a more violent commotion than even the former, in which Sylla's son-in-law, who attempted to oppose the law, was slain: nor was Sylla himself in less danger, for being pursued by the multitude, he was at last obliged to take refuge in the house of his enemy Marius, who though naturally vindictive, would not break the laws of hospitality, which were still reverenced in Rome. Having thus found means of escaping their fury, and finding the opposite faction prevail, he instantly quitted Rome, and went to the army which he had commanded during the Social war, and which was appointed to go under him upon the expedition into Asia. In the mean time, Marius and Sulpicius drove their scheme forward without any opposition; the law for giving the Italians a full participation of the freedom of the city, was past without trouble; and by the same law it was enacted, that the command of the army which was to oppose Mithridates, was to be transferred from Sylla to Marius.
In consequence of this, Marius immediately sent down officers from Rome, to take command in his name. But Sylla, as was mentioned above, had predisposed the army in his own favour. They were troops with whom he had gained signal victories, and they were entirely devoted to his command. Instead therefore, of obeying the orders of Marius, they fell upon and slew his officers, and then entreated their general, that he would lead them directly to take signal vengeance upon all his enemies at Rome. In the mean time, Marius being informed of this, was not slow in making reprisals upon such of Sylla's friends as fell into his hands in the city. This produced new murmurs in Sylla's camp, the army insisted upon being led to the capital, and their general himself, who was naturally vindictive, at length determined to comply.
Sylla's army amounted to six legions, the soldiers of which seemed animated with the resentment of their leader, and breathed nothing but slaughter and revenge. However, there were a few yet remaining among them, that even in this time of general corruption, could not think of turning their arms upon their native city, but quitted the camp and fled. Thus a strange migration of different parties was seen, some flying from Rome to avoid the resentment of Marius, and others deserting from the camp, not to be accomplices in the guilt of Sylla. Still however, the army advanced toward Rome; it was to no purpose, that the praetors went out from the city in form, to retard them; they broke the ensigns of their office, and tore their purple robes with derision. The senate next sent deputies to command the army not to advance within five miles of the city. The deputies were for a while amused by Sylla, however they seemed scarce returned to give an account of their commission, when he arrived with all his forces at the very gates of Rome. His soldiers entered the city sword in hand, as into a place taken by storm. Marius and Sulpicius, at the head of a tumultuary body of their partizans, attempted to oppose their entrance, and the citizens themselves, who feared the saccage of the place, threw down stones and tyles from the tops of the houses upon the soldiers. So unequal a conflict lasted longer than could have been expected, but at length, Marius and his party were obliged to seek safety by flight, after having vainly offered liberty to all the slaves, who should assist them in this emergency.
Sylla now finding himself master of the city, placed bodies of soldiers in different parts to prevent pillage and disorder. He even punished some severely for offering to enter the houses by force, and spent the night in visiting their quarters, and restraining their impetuosity. The next morning he began, by modelling the laws so as to favour his outrages. These had long lost their force in the commonwealth, and were now molded into whatever form the strongest party were pleased they should assume. He therefore reversed all the decrees which had been passed by Sulpicius. He enacted, that no law should be proposed for the future, but what should be previously approved by the senate. That the suffrages should be given by classes, in which the patricians were sure of a majority, and not by tribes, in which, every man having an equal voice, the influence of the great was totally annihilated. To these he added a decree, whereby Marius, Sulpicius, and ten other leading men were declared enemies to their country, and by which it was lawful for any person to kill them. Having thus brought the laws to second his ambition, he caused the goods of the proscribed to be confiscated, and next sent troops into all parts to apprehend them. Marius escaped, but Sulpicius was found hidden in the marshes of Laurentium, and his head being cut off, was carried and fixed upon the Rostrum at Rome. Sylla having thus, as he supposed, entirely restored peace to the city, departed upon his expedition against Mithridates, hoping to give new vigour to his designs, by the wealth and honours which he expected to reap in the East.
But while Sylla was thus establishing his party against Marius, he had been inattentive to a very formidable opponent, who was daily growing into popularity and power at Rome. This was Cornelius Cinna, who was born of a patrician family, but strongly attached to the people from motives of ambition. He was a man eager after glory, but incapable of patiently expecting its regular approach: rash, hot, and obstinate, but at the same time, bold, and courageous; he was willing to become the leader of the people, as he could not lead in the senate. He therefore offered himself for the consulship, in opposition to the interests of Sylla, and either from that general's inattention to one he despised, or from his own great favour with the lower part of the people, he obtained it. He was scarce invested with his new dignity, but his enmity broke forth: he boasted, that he would annul all the laws which had been lately made in favour of the patricians, and accordingly began by endeavours to attach the Italians firmly to his interest. This was only to be effected, by giving them an equal participation in the freedom of the city, of which Sylla had lately deprived them. He therefore sent private emissaries among the country states, desiring their attendance at Rome upon a certain day, and enjoining them also to carry swords under their robes. Thus, when he had prepared a party to support his pretensions, he publickly proposed the law for suppressing the new Italian tribes, and for giving them equal privileges with the rest, by mixing them among those formerly established. To propose a law at this time, was in some meausure to declare a war. An engagement ensued, in which the Italians, being previously armed, came off victorious for a while; but Octavius, the other consul, coming with a powerful body of Sylla's friends to oppose them, soon turned the fortune of the day, and obliged the Italians to quit the city.
Cinna being thus defeated in his purpose of passing the law, had notwithstanding, the pleasure of finding all the states of Italy strongly united in his favour; whereupon, leaving Rome, he went from city to city, declaring against the tyranny of the great, and their injustice to their allies, by whose assistance they had become so powerful: he allured them with fresh hopes of equal privileges with the Romans, and excited their pity towards himself, whose sufferings had been incurred for his assiduity in their cause. Having thus induced them to a general insurrection, he began to make levies both of troops and money: thus a powerful army was soon raised, and Cinna, as being consul of Rome, without opposition, was placed at its head. In the mean time, the senate, who were apprized of these violent proceedings, went through the forms of justice against him. Being summoned to take his trial, and not appearing, he was degraded from his rank as a citizen, tured out of his office of consul, and Lucius Merula, the priest of Jupiter, elected in his stead. But these indignities only served to encrease his diligence and animosity. He appeared before a body of the Roman forces that were encamped at Capua, in an humble, imploring manner, without any of the ensigns of his office. He entreated them with tears and protestations, not to suffer the people of Rome to fall a sacrifice to the tyranny of the great: he invoked the gods who punished injustice, to witness to the rectitude of his intentions, and so far prevailed upon the soldiers, that they unanimously resolved to support his cause. The whole army, with general consent, agreed to nominate him consul, and contrary to the decree of the senate, invested him with the ensigns of his office: and then taking the oaths of allegiance, they determined to follow him to Rome. Thus he saw his strength encreasing every day; several of the senators who were wavering before, now came over to his side; but what was equal to an army in itself! Tidings were brought, that Marius escaping from a thousand perils, was with his son upon the road to join him.
We have already seen this formidable general driven out of Rome, and declared a public enemy: we have seen him at the age of seventy, after numberless victories, and six consulships, obliged to save himself, unattended and on foot, from the numerous pursuits of those who sought his life. After having wandered for some time in this deplorable condition, he found every day his dangers encrease, and his pursuers making nearer advances. In this distress he was obliged to conceal himself in the marshes of Minturnum, where he spent the night up to his chin in a quagmire. At break of day he left this dismal place, and made towards the sea side, in hopes of finding a ship to facilitate his escape, but being known and discovered by some of the inhabitants, he was conducted to a neighbouring town with an halter round his neck, and without cloaths, and thus covered over with mud, he was sent to prison. The governor of the place, willing to conform to the orders of the senate, soon after sent a Cimbrian slave to dispatch him, but the barbarian no sooner entered the dungeon for this purpose, but he stopt short, intimidated by the dreadful visage and awful voice of this fallen general, who sternly demanded, if he he had the presumption to kill Caius Marius? The slave unable to reply, threw down his sword, and rushing back from the prison, cried out, that he found it impossible to kill him! The governor considering the fear of the slave as an omen in the unhappy exile's favour, gave him once more his freedom, and commending him to his fortune, provided him with a ship to convey him from Italy. He from thence made the best of his way to the island of Aenaria, and sailing onward, was forced by a tempest upon the coast of Sicily. Here a Roman quaestor who happened to be at the same place, resolved to seize him, by which he lost sixteen of his crew, who were killed in their endeavours to cover his retreat to the ship. He afterwards landed in Africa, near Carthage, and went in a melancholy manner, to place himself among the ruins of that desolated place. He soon however, had orders from the praetor who governed there, to retire. Marius, who remembered his having once served this very man, when in necessity, could not suppress his sorrow, at finding ingratitude in every quarter of the world, and preparing to obey, desired the messenger to tell his master, that he had seen Marius sitting among the ruins of Carthage, intimating the greatness of his own fall, by the desolation that was round him. He then embarked once more, and not knowing where to land without encountering an enemy, he spent the winter at sea, expecting every hour, the return of a messenger from his son, whom he had sent to sollicit protection from an African prince, whose name was Mandrastal. After long expectation, instead of the messenger, his son himself arrived, having escaped from the inhospitable court of that monarch, where he had been kept, not as a friend, but a prisoner, and had returned just time enough to prevent his father from sharing the same rate. It was in this situation, that they were informed of the activity of Cinna in their favour, and accordingly made the best of their way to join him.
Cinna, upon being apprized of their approach, sent his lictors, with all other marks of distinction, to join them, but Marius would not accept of these instances of respect: he sent them back, as being ill suited to his abject situation, and affected to appear in the wretched habit which he had worn in his misfortunes. His beard was long and neglected, his pace slow and solemn, and all his actions shewed a mind stung into resentment, and meditating revenge: he now therefore, went among the towns, exciting them to espouse his quarrel, which he taught them to think was their own. Five hundred of the principal citizens of Rome went down to congratulate his return; a large number of veterans, who had fought under his standard, came to offer him their service, and to encrease his forces still more, he proclaimed freedom to all slaves who should join him, by which means, great crowds flocked to him from every quarter. His first operation was to take the city of Ostia by storm; he then advanced with his whole army, and posted himself upon the Janiculum, an hill that overlooked Rome, where he was joined by Cinna, with an army as numerous as his own, and both now resolved to lay siege to their native city.
The senate and consuls were now driven almost to despair; it was too late to send to Sylla, who was gaining victories in Asia, while his party was upon the brink of ruin at home. Cneius Pompeius commanded an army near Rome, but his actions were so equivocal, that neither side could rely upon him, while both equally feared him. They sent to Metellus, then lying with a body of troops among the Samnites, but his soldiers, instead of granting them any aid, soon after joined with Marius. Thus deserted by all, they daily saw the towns about the city taken and plundered, and vast numbers of slaves every hour deserting over to the enemy. In this exigence, they had no other resource but submission: they accordingly resolved to send ambassadors to the two generals, assuring them of their ready attachment, and desiring them to enter the city peaceably, and to spare their own countrymen. Cinna however, refused to grant any audience, till he knew in what manner he was to be addressed, whether as a private man, or as consul, and first officer of the state. This, for a while, created some embarrassment; but it was vain to deliberate, when submission was the only alternative. Cinna being restored to the consulship, now received the ambassadors of the senate in form, who invited him into the city, and requested him to undertake the duties of his office; they entreated him to regard his countrymen with tenderness, and endeavoured to obtain from him an oath, that he would put no man to death, but after a legal manner, and conformable to the ancient usages of Rome. Cinna refused the oath, but promised, that willingly he would not be the cause of any man's death. During this conference, Marius continued standing by the consul's tribunal, observing a profound silence, but his furious air, and eyes glancing with fire, were but too sure presages of the carnage he meditated within.
The conference being ended, Cinna and Marius presented themselves at the gates of the city, at the head of their troops: Cinna marched in first, accompanied by his guards, but Marius stopped, and refused to enter, alledging, that having been banished by a public decree, it was necessary to have another to authorize his return. It was thus that he desired to give his meditated cruelties the appearance of justice, and while he was about to destroy thousands, to pretend an implicit veneration for the laws. In pursuance of his desire, an assembly of th
people being called, they began to reverse hi
banishment, but they had scarce gone throug
three of the tribes, when incapable of containing his desire of revenge, he entered the city at the head of his guards, and massacred all who had ever been obnoxious to him, without remorse or pity. Octavius the consul was killed in his chair of office; Merula, who had been his colleague in the room of Cinna, killed himself, to avoid falling by the enemy; Caius and Lucius Julius, Serranus, Lentulus, Numitorius and Bebius, all senators of the first rank, were butchered in the streets, their heads placed upon the rostrum, and their bodies given to be devoured by dogs; many more shared the same fate; the satellites of Marius breathing slaughter and vengeance, stabbed the fathers of families in in their own houses, violated the chastity of matrons, and carried away their children by force. Several who sought to propitiate the tyrant's rage, were murdered by his command in his presence: many even of those who had never offended him were put to death, and at last, even his own officers never approached him but with terror. Having in this manner punished his enemies, he next abrogated all the laws which were made by his rival, and then made himself consul with Cinna. Thus gratified in his two favourite passions, vengeance and ambition; having once saved his country, and now deluged it with blood, at last, as if willing to crown the pile of slaughter which he had made, with his own body, he died the month after, aged seventy, not without suspicion of having hastened his end.
In the mean time, these accounts were brought to Sylla, who was sent against Mithridates, and who was performing many signal services against him. That monarch having caused an hundred and fifty thousand Romans, who were in his dominions, to be slain in cold blood, next sent his general Archelaus to oppose Sylla; however, he was defeated near Athens, with the loss of an immense number of his forces. Another battle ensued, by which the Roman general recovered all the countries that had been usurped by Mithridates. The loss of the king's fleet followed soon after, so that both parties were now inclined to an accommodation; Mithridates induced by his losses, and Sylla by a desire of returning home, to take vengeance on his enemies in Rome. A peace was accordingly soon after concluded, the principal articles of which were, that Mithridates should defray the charges of the war, and should be content with his own hereditary dominions.
U. C.
Thus having in less than three years brought the Asiatic war to an honourable period, Sylla prepared for his return, previously informing the senate by letter, of all the great services he had done the state, and the ungrateful return he had received, from such as envied his fortune; adding a dreadful menace, that he would soon be at the gates of Rome with a victorious and powerful army, to take signal revenge upon his own enemies and those of the state. The senate, who were now to be considered rather as a party formed by Marius, than as the independent protectors of Rome, greatly dreaded the effects of Sylla's return: they already anticipated the slaughters he was about to make, and therefore sent to treat with him, offering to comply with whatever terms he should propose, provided he let them know the limits he intended to set to his resentment. They even ordered Cinna, who as we have observed before, had been elected consul with Marius, to discontinue his levies, and join with them in deprecating Sylla's anger by timely submission. Cinna however, knew too well how little mercy he had to expect from his opponent, and instead of obeying the senate, returned them an evasive answer, but in the mean time, proceeded to raise forces, and to oppose Sylla even in Asia, by sending an army thither, under pretence, that what was acted against Mithridates hitherto, was against the consent, and without the authority of the senate. For this purpose he dispatched a body of forces under the command of Valerius Flaccus, his colleague in the consulship, into Asia. However, as this leader was unexperienced in the field, Fimbria, an old soldier of reputation, was sent as his lieutenant, with directions to correct by his experience, the too great impetuosity of the general. They soon however, began to differ, and the breach widening every day, the consul thought proper to depose Fimbria from his command. But all confidence and order was now lost in the military as well as in the civil departments of the state. Fimbria, instead of submitting to his superior, brought his cause before the army; a general mutiny ensued; the consul attempted to escape, but being discovered at the bottom of a well, was dragged out, and murdered by his own soldiers. In the mean time, Fimbria taking the command of the army, led it against Mithridates, over whom he gained a signal victory, and might have compleated his triumph over that monarch, but the same disobedience which he was guilty of to his own commander, his soldiers practised against him, for shortly after, at Sylla's approach, his troops all deserted, to join their fellow-citizens in the other army, so that Fimbria being thus left alone, fled to the temple of Aesculapius in Pergamus, where he fell upon his sword, but the wound not proving mortal, his slave dispatched him, killing himself upon the body of his master.
In the mean time, the ill success of this army did not intimidate Cinna from making preparations to repel his opponent. Being joined by Carbo, who was now elected in the room of Valerius, who had been slain, together with young Marius, who inherited all the abilities and the ambition of his father, he determined to send over part of the forces he had raised into Dalmatia, to oppose Sylla before he entered Italy. Some troops were accordingly embarked, but these being dispersed by a storm, the rest that had not yet put to sea, absolutely refused to go. Upon this, Cinna, quite furious at their disobedience, rushed forward to persuade them to their duty. However, one of the most mutinous of the soldiers being struck by an officer, and returning the blow, he was apprehended for his crime. This ill-timed severity produced a tumult and a mutiny through the whole army, and while Cinna did all he could to prevent or appease it, he was run through the body by one of the crowd. The army being thus deprived of their principal leader, continued under Carbo, who kept himself consul, without a colleague, for some time. The next year's consuls being Urbanus and Scipio, new levies were made, and the affairs of the party seemed to wear a very favourable aspect. It was not doubted, but Sylla would take signal vengeance for his late injuries, and do all in his power to suppress the late popular laws, exacted in his absence: all the lower part of the citizens therefore, and the majority of the senate were against him; the one from principles of democracy, the other through fear. Thus a great concourse of people came from different part
of Italy, to take part with the consuls, who soon saw themselves at the head of an army, superior to that of Sylla, whose approach was so much dreaded by all.
During these preparations, Sylla was not less expeditious, by long and forced marches, in returning to his native country, which he intended to deluge with blood. Being arrived at Dy
cchium, where he had prepared a fleet to convey him into Italy, he harrangued his army before they embarked, entreating, that they would engage themselves by an oath, to continue faithful to his cause. This they unanimously consented to do, and as an earnest of their sincerity, offered him all the money which they had gained in their late expeditions, towards supporting the expences of the war. Sylla, pleased at their alacrity, refused their intended favours, assuring them, that they should soon share much greater rewards from his bounty, than he had as yet been able to bestow, and then embarking his troops, landed them, after a favourable passage, at Bru
dusium in Italy.
He had been scarce arrived there, but the remains of that shattered party which had escaped the proscriptions of Marius, came to join him. Metellus was the first, with a large body of forces which he had collected in his way. Marcus Crassus came with a supply, as also Cethegus; but of all the succours which he received, none were more timely or pleasing, than those which were brought him by Cneius Pompey, afterwards surnamed the Great. This commander, though yet but twenty-three, began already to shew the dawnings of that ambition, which afterwards shone with such lustre in the commonwealth. Though at that time invested with no public character, he found means to raise an army of three legions in Picaenum, and to overthrow Brutus, who commanded the troops of the opposite faction in that district. This victory was also signalized by his killing the general of the Gaulish cavalry, who opposed himself in single combat, for which he was saluted with the highest marks of respect by Sylla, who seemed to have a prescience of his future greatness.
A civil war being thus determined upon, and both parties being now advanced very near each other, Sylla was willing to try, how far the immense riches he brought with him from Asia, were capable of shaking the enemies forces, without a battle. For this purpose, he at first pretended to be averse to engaging, and sent deputies to Scipio the consul, who commanded against him, with proposals for coming to a treaty. The consul, who sought for nothing so much as peace, very readily embraced his offers, but desired time, previously to confer with Urbanus his colleague, upon a measure in which he was equally concerned. This was all that Sylla desired, for in the mean time, a suspension of arms being agreed upon, his soldiers went into the opposite camp, displaying those riches which they had acquired in their expeditions, and offering to participate with their fellow-citizens, in case they changed their party. The same motives that had prevailed on the soldiers of Fimbria to desert him, now prevailed upon these to desert their general. The whole army declared unanimously for Sylla, and Scipio scarce knew that he was forsaken and deposed, till he was informed of it by a party of the enemy, who entering his tent, made him and his son their prisoners. Sylla however, acted with great moderation towards him; he would permit no injury to be done to the consul, but employed all his arts to bring him over to his party. After much entreaty, finding him inflexible, he generously gave him his freedom, having previously obtained his promise, not to command against him during the rest of his consulship.
Sylla having succeeded so well in this instance, resolved to try the same arts upon the army commanded by Norbanus, the other consul. He sent deputies to him, desiring a conference, but the consul, instructed by the disgrace of his colleague, confined the deputies, and marched directly against him, hoping to come upon him by surprize. An engagement ensued, in which Sylla's men, though attacked in disorder, repaired by their courage, what they wanted in regularity. Norbanus lost seven thousand men, and was obliged to take refuge in Capua, with the remainder of his army.
Italy now began to feel all the desolations and miseries of a declared civil war, nor were the secret intrigues of corruption carried on by both parties with less perseverance and assiduity: the emissaries of each were seen going diligently during the whole winter, up and down among the states of Italy, labouring by all the arts of bribery and persuasion to gain over forces to their cause. Sylla was particularly versed in the business of seduction, and vast sums of that money which had been plundered from the East, went all over the country, and even among the barbarous nations of Gaul, to extend his interests. On the other hand, the Samnites, to the number of forty thousand men, declared in favour of Carbo, his chief opposer, who was now chosen consul a third time, with young Marius, of whom his party had formed great expectations. The operations in the field, which had been suspended during the winter, opened with still greater vigour in the beginning of the spring. Marius, at the head of twenty-five cohorts, offered Sylla battle, which this general, knowing how the troops against him were predisposed, readily accepted. At first the fortune of the day seemed doubtful, but just at that very period in which victory begins to waver, a part of the troops of Marius, which had been previously corrupted, fled in disorder, and thus decided the fate of the day. Marius having vainly endeavoured to rally his troops, was the last that fled, and went to take refuge in Praeneste, a strong city that was still stedfast in his cause. Sylla closely pursued him there, and invested the city on every side: then having disposed his army in such a manner, as that none of the defendants could escape, and no forces could be thrown into the garrison from without, he marched at the head of a detachment to Rome.
The partizans of Marius having been apprized of his defeat, abandoned the city with precipitation, so that Sylla approached without resistance. The inhabitants, thinned by famine and all the terrors that attend a civil war, opened their gates upon his arrival, wherefore entering the Forum, and assembling the people, he reprimanded them for their infidelity. However, he exhorted them not to be dejected, for he was still resolved to pardon and protect them. He observed, that he was obliged by the necessity of the times, to take vigorous measures, and that none but their enemies and his own should suffer. He then put up the goods of those that fled, to sale, and leaving a small garrison in the city, returned to besiege his rival.
Young Marius on the other hand, made many attempts to raise the siege, but all his designs were known to Sylla, before they were put into execution. Wherever his Sallies were pointed, the peculiar attention of Sylla's lieutenant seemed to be directed there. Thus frequently frustrated in his attempts to repress, or at least to escape his besiegers, he gave way to that resentment, which was remarkable in his family, and ascribing his detention to the treachery of Sylla's friends, who pretended to remain neuter, he sent orders to Rome, to Brutus, who was Praetor there, to put all those senators to death, whom he suspected to be in the interest of his rival. With this cruel command Brutus immediately complied, and many of the first rank, among whom were Domitius Antistius, and Scaevola, were slain as they were leaving the senate. Thus, whatever faction was victorious, Rome was still a miserable sufferer.
Both factions thus exasperated to the highest degree, and expecting no mercy on either part, gave vent to their fury in several engagements. The forces on the side of Marius were the most numerous, but those of Sylla better united and more under subordination. Carbo, who commanded an army for Marius in the field, sent eight legions to Praeneste, to relieve his colleague, but they were met by Pompey in a defile, who slew many of them, and dispersed the rest. Carbo, joined by Urbanus, soon after engaged Metellus, but was overcome with the loss of ten thousand men slain, and six thousand taken prisoners. In consequence of this defeat, Urbanus killed himself, and Carbo fled to Africa, where, after wandering a long time, he was at last delivered up to Pompey, who to please Sylla, ordered him to be beheaded. Still however, a numerous army of the Samnites were in the field, headed by several Roman generals, and by Telesinus, who though a Samnite, had shewn himself equal to the greatest commanders of the age. These were joined by four legions, commanded by Carianus, who was still obstinately bent upon continuing the war. These united, were resolved to make one desperate effort to raise the siege of Praeneste, or to perish in the attempt. Accordingly, Telesinus made a shew of advancing with great boldness, to force the enemy's lines of circumvallation. At the same time, Sylla, at the head of a victorious army, faced him in front, while orders were sent to Pompey, to follow and attack him in the rear. The Samnite general however, shewed himself superior to both, in these operations, for judging of their designs by their motions, he led off his troops by night, and by forced marches, appeared next morning upon the mountains that overlooked Rome. This wretched city had just time sufficient to shut its gates, to prevent his entrance, but he hoped to seize the place by a bold assault, and encouraging his soldiers, both by their ancient enmity to the Roman state, and their hopes of immense riches upon the capture, he brought on his men, and led them boldly to the very walls. Appius Claudius, who was at that time in Rome, and in the interests of Sylla, made a sally to oppose him, rather with hopes of delaying the assailants, than of entirely repressing them. The Romans fought with that vigour, which the consciousness of defending every thing dear inspires. But Appius was killed in the combat, and the rest disheartened by the loss of their general, seemed preparing for flight. Just at this interval, a party of Sylla's horse appeared at the opposite gates, who throwing themselves into the city, and hastening through it, met the assailants on the other side. The desperate fury of these, in some measure suspended the fate of the battle, till Sylla with his whole army had time to arrive. It was then that a general and dreadful conflict ensued between the Samnite and the Roman army. The citizens from their walls beheld thousands fall on both sides. At first, the forces commanded by Sylla on the left, gave way, but his lieutenant Crassus was victorious on the right. The battle continued all day, till late at night, nor was it till the morning, that Sylla found himself completely victorious. He then visited the field of battle, on which more than fifty thousand of the vanquished and the victors lay promiscuously. Eight thousand of the Samnites were made prisoners, and killed in cold blood, after the engagement. Marcius and Carinus attempting to escape, were taken, and their heads being cut off, were sent by Sylla's command, to be carried round the walls of Praeneste. At this sorrowful sight, the inhabitants of the place being now destitute of provisions, and despairing of all succour from without, resolved to surrender, but it was only to experience the unrelenting fury of the conqueror, who ordered all the males to be slain. Marius, the cause of these calamities, was at first missing, and it was thought had got off, but he was at last discovered lying dead, with a captain of the Samnites, at the issue of one of the subterranean passages that led from the city, where they had tried to escape, but finding it guarded by the enemy, killed themselves. The city of Norba was now all that remained unsubdued in Italy, but the inhabitants, after a long resistance, dreading the fate of Praeneste, set their town on fire, and desperately perished in the flames. The destruction of this place, put an end to the civil war; Sylla now became undisputed master of his country, and entered Rome at the head of his army. Happy, had he supported in peace the glory which he had acquired in war, or had he ceased to live, when he ceased to conquer.
Being now no longer obliged to wear the mask of lenity, he began his reign by assembling the people, and desired an implicit obedience to his commands, if they expected favour. He then published, that those who expected pardon for their late offences, should gain it by destroying the enemies of the state. This was a new mode of proscription, by which the arms of all were turned against all. Great numbers perished by this mutual power, which was given the people of destroying each other, and nothing was to be found in every place, but menaces, distrust, and treachery. Eight thousand who had escaped the general carnage, offered themselves to the conqueror at Rome: he ordered them to be put into the Villa Publica, a large house in the Campus Martius, and at the same time convoked the senate: there he spoke with great fluency, and in a manner no way discomposed, of his own exploits, and in the mean time, ordered all those wretches whom he had confined, to be slain. The senate, amazed at the horrrid outcries of the sufferers, at first thought that the city was given up to plunder; but Sylla, with an unembarrassed air informed them, that it was only some criminals who were punished by his order, and that they needed not to make themselves uneasy about their fate. The day after, he proscribed forty senators and sixteen hundred knights, and after an intermission of two days, forty senators more, with an infinite number of the richest citizens of Rome. He declared the children and the grand-children of the opposite party, infamous, and divested of the rights of freedom. He ordained by a public edict, that those who saved or harboured any of the proscribed, should suffer in their place. He set a price upon the heads of such as were thus to be destroyed, two talents being the reward affixed for every murder. Slaves invited by such offers, were seen to kill their masters, and still more shocking to humanity, children, whose hands still reeked with the blood of their parents, came confidently to demand the wages of parricide. Nor were the enemies of the state the only sufferers; Sylla permitted his soldiers to revenge their private injuries, so that husbands were slain, by such as desired to enjoy thei
widows, and children were slain in the embrace
of their parents, who were soon to share the sam
fate. Riches now became dangerous to the possessor, and even the reputation of fortune was equivalent to guilt: Aurelius, a peaceable citize
without any other crime, found his name among the number of the proscribed, and could not help crying out just before his assassination, that he owed his death to the magnificence of his palace at Alba. But the brother of Marius felt the conqueror's most refined cruelty! First he had his eyes plucked out deliberately, then his hands and legs cut off at several times, to lengthen his torments, and in this agonizing situation he was left to expire. But these barbarities were not confined only to Rome, the proscription was extended to many of the inhabitants of all the cities of Italy, and even whole towns and districts were ordered to be laid desolate. These were given to his soldiers as rewards for their fidelity, who still wanting more, excited him to new cruelty. In this general slaughter, Julius Caesar, who had married Cinna's daughter, very hardly escaped the miseries of the times: Sylla was prevailed upon to let him live, though he was heard to say, that there were many Mariuses in Caesar.
However, these arbitrary confiscations, and numerous largesses which were given to his followers, were not to be retained without some share of continuing power. He therefore resolved to invest himself with the dictatorship, which, by uniting all civil as well as military power in his own person, he might thus give an air of justice to every oppression. He therefore withdrew a while from the city, and gave order
▪ that since affairs still remained unsettled, the people should be applied to, to create a dictator, and that not for any limited time, but till the public grievances should be redressed. To these directions he added his request, which, as he was possessed of all power, was equivalent to a command, that he himself should be chosen. To this the people being constrained to yield. He was chosen perpetual dictator; and thus the Romans received a master invested with an authority far more absolute, than any of their kings had been possessed of before.
The government of Rome having now passed through all the forms of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, at length began to settle into despotism, from which, though it made some faint struggles to be free, yet it never compleatly extricated itself, till its total dissolution. Sylla, to amuse the people with a shew of their former government, permitted them to have consuls, but at the same time took care, that none but his own creatures should be elected, and that all their power should be entirely derived from him. He made several new laws for regulating the different offices of the state. He totally destroyed the power of the tribunes, by enacting, that those who bore it, should be incapable of obtaining any other office. He added three hundred of the knights to the senate, and ten thousand of the slaves of those who were proscribed, to the body of the people. To establish these regulations more firmly, he appropriated to himself the treasures of the public, and lavished them in widening his dependencies, and strengthening his interest: he seemed to think he could never sufficiently reward his creatures, if they were but implicit in their obedience. Crassus, who was already the richest man in the state, was ever soliciting an accumulation of his favours, and buying up the effects of such as were proscribed, at an under rate. Pompey put away his wife Antistia to oblige him, and married Emilia, the dictator's step-child. He attempted to exercise the same power over Julius Caesar, by obliging him to repudiate his wife Cornelia, but that young Roman chose to banish himself from the city, rather than comply, and never returned, till Sylla was no more.
In this manner he continued to govern with capricious tyranny, none daring to resist his power. Lucretius Offella shewed how dangerous it was to controul a tyrant in the full exercise of his authority: this man ventured to offer himself for the consulship, in opposition to one of Sylla's decrees, which had forbidden any man's aspiring to that dignity, without having gone through the regular gradations of office. However, as he had formerly rendered some very signal services to his party, he thought that would excuse him. He was therefore at first desired to desist from his attempt, but persevering, Sylla ordered one of his satellites to stab him, and then threatened to serve any other person in the same manner, who should attempt to invalidate his authority. By such means as these, he was submitted to with the most blind obedience. Whenever he proposed laws, the people assembled, not to deliberate upon their fitness, but to give them the sanction of their consent. They found themselves quite ejected from any concern in the state, and saw nothing before them, but a prospect of hopeless and confirmed slavery. It was at this juncture, that contrary to the expectations of all mankind, Sylla laid down the dictatorship, having held it not quite three years.
It was not without the greatest surprize, that the people saw this conqueror, who had made himself so many enemies in every part of the state, quitting a power he had earned by such various dangers, and reducing himself to the rank of a private citizen. But their wonder encreased, when they heard him, after so many acts of cruelty, and such numberless massacres, offering to take his trial before the people, whom he constituted judges of his conduct. Having divested himself in their presence of his office, and dismissed the lictors who guarded him, he continued to walk for some time in the Forum, unattended and alone. At the approach of evening he retired homewards, the people following him all the way in a kind of silent astonishment, mixed with the profoundest respect. Of all that great multitude which he had so often insulted and terrified, none was found hardy enough to reproach or accuse him, except one young man, who pursued him with insulting language to his own door. Sylla disdained replying to so mean an adversary, but turning to those who attended him, observed, that this fellow's insolence would for the future prevent any man's laying down an office of such supreme authority. It is not easy to divine the motives of Sylla's abdication, whether they were from vanity, or a deep laid scheme of policy. Whether being satiated with the usual adulation which he received for his conquests, he was now desirous also of receiving some for his patriotism, or whether dreading an assassination from some secret enemy, he was willing to disarm him, by retiring from the splendors of an envied situation. However this may be, he soon retired into the country, in order to enjoy the pleasures of tranquility and social happiness; but he did not long survive his abdication; he died of that disease which is called, the morbus pedicularis, a loathsome object, and of mortifying to human ambition. He was the first of his family whose body was burnt, for having ordered the remains of Marius to be taken out of his grave and thrown into the river Anio, he was apprehensive of the same insult upon his own, if left to the usual way of burial. A little before his death, he made his own epitaph, the tenor of which was, That no man had ever exceeded him in doing good to his friends or injury to his enemies.
As soon as Sylla was dead, the old dissensions that had been smothered awhile by the terror of his power, burst out again into a flame between the two factions, supported severally by the two consuls, Catulus and Lepidus, who were wholly opposite to each other in party and politics. Lepidus resolved, at all adventures, to rescind the acts of Sylla, and recall the exiled Marians, beginning openly to solicit the people to support him in that resolution. This attempt, though plausible, was at this time particularly unseasonable, when the state was just recovering from the wounds it had lately received in the civil war. On the other hand Catulus, whose father had been condemned to die by Marius, inheriting the principles of his family, vigorously opposed, and effectually counter-acted the designs of his colleague. Lepidus thus finding himself unable to attain his ends, without recurring to arms, retired to his government of Gaul, with intent to raise a force sufficient to subdue all opposition, where the report of his levies and military preparations gave such umbrage to the senate, that they soon abrogated his command. Upon this, he advanced into Italy at the head of a large army, and marched in an hostile manner towards Rome, to demand a second consulship. He had with him, several of the chief magistrates, and the good wishes of all the tribunes, so that he hoped, by the popularity of his cause, to advance himself into Sylla's place, and usurp the sovereign authority of the state. Catulus, in the mean time, upon the expiration of his office, was invested with the charge of defending the government, and Pompey also was by a decree of the senate, joined with him in the same commission. These therefore, having united their forces before Lepidus could reach the city, came to an engagement with him, near the Milvian Bridge, within two miles of Rome, where they totally routed and dispersed his whole army. But Cisalpine Gaul still remaining in the possession of Brutus, his lieutenant, and the father of him who afterwards killed Caesar; Pompey went to reduce that province, where, Brutus having sustained a siege in Modena, was taken, and put to death by Pompey's order. As for Lepidus, he escaped into Sardinia, where he died soon after of grief, to see his hopes destroyed, and his country fallen under the aristocratical faction.
But the hopes of the Marian party did not entirely expire here. A more dangerous enemy still remained in Spain, who for a while made it doubtful, whether that province or Rome, should possess the empire of the world. This was Sertorius, a veteran soldier who had his been bred under Marius, and had learned all virtues, without sharing one of his vices. He was temperate, just, merciful and brave, but his military skill seemed to exceed that of any other general of his time. Upon the extinction of the Marian party, this brave commander fell into the hands of Sylla, who dismissed him with life, upon account of his known moderation. Yet soon after, capriciously repenting of this clemency, he proscribed and drove him to the necessity of seeking safety in a distant province. Sertorius being thus banished from Rome, after several attempts on Africa and the coasts of the Mediterranean, found at last a refuge in Spain, whither, all who fled from Sylla's cruelty, resorted to him, of whom he formed a senate, that gave laws to the whole province. There, by his great abilities and clemency, he so gained the hearts of the warlike inhabitants, that for eight years he continued to sustain a war against the whole power of the Roman state. Metellus, an old experienced commander, was sent against him at first, but he was so often out-generalled by his opponent, that the senate were forced to send their favourite Pompey to his assistance, with the best troops of the empire. Sertorius maintained his ground against them both, and after many engagements, in which he generally came off equal, and often superior, he began to meditate nothing less than the invasion of Italy. But all his schemes were baffled by the treachery of one of his own lieutenants, who was next him in command, and envied his rising reputation. This wretch's name was Perpenna, who had some time before come over to him with the shattered remains of Lepidus's army, and was at first an useful assistant. However, a jealousy arising between them, Perpenna invited him to a sumptuous entertainment, where having intoxicated all his attendants, he fell upon Sertorius, and treacherously murdered him. But this stroke of barbarity only served to ruin his party, which had been entirely supported by the reputation of the general: for soon after, Perpenna being easily overthrown by Pompey, was taken prisoner, and all the revolted provinces readily submitted. The conqueror is celebrated on this occasion, for an action of great prudence and generosity. Perpenna in hopes to save his life, offered to make some important discoveries, and to put into his hands all the papers of Sertorius, in which were several letters to and from the principal senators of Rome. Pompey however▪ rejecting his offer, ordered the traitor to be slain, and his papers to be burnt without reading them. By these means he eased the people of their fears, and prevented those acts of desperation, which the consciousness of being discovered might have given rise to.
The present prosperity of Pompey was highly pleasing at Rome; he had hitherto been successful in all his affairs, and in this instance, as if fortune had delighted in giving him new opportunities of serving his country, he seemed peculiarly fortunate. Upon his return, he fell in with a large body of slaves, that had escaped after their overthrow by Crassus in Italy, and cut them to pieces. This insurrection, which Pompey had the good fortune of thus terminating, was called the Servile war, and took its rise from a few gladiators, who broke from their fencing-school at Capua, and having drawn a number of slaves after them, overthrew Glaber the praetor, who was sent to suppress them; and from this success, their number presently encreased to an army of forty thousand men. With this strength, and headed by Spartacus their general, they sustained a vigorous war for three years, in the very heart of Italy: they defeated several commanders of consular and praetorian rank, and even began to talk of attacking Rome. But Crassius having gathered about him all the forces which were near home, drove them before him to the extremity of Rhegium, where for want of vessels to make their escape, the greatest part of them were destroyed, and among them Spartacus, fighting bravely to the last, at the head of his desperate forces. It was the remainder of this wretched band, that Pompey happened to fall in with in his passage across the Alps homeward, and as he expressed it to the senate, by destroying them, plucked up the war by the very roots. Thus ended all the civil wars which were excited by the ambition of Marius and Sylla, a long and dismal period, in which the reader can side with neither party, as both were equally cruel, base, self-interested and venal. The republic had been long fated to destruction, its former justice and moderation was gone, and it was immaterial who was to have the overwhelming of a corrupted empire.
Yet still, during this interval which we have been describing, all the arts of peace had been cultivated, and had risen almost to the summit of perfection. Plautus and Terence, it is true, had flourished some time before, but Lucretius, the boast of his age, who exceeds as much in poetry, as he falls short in philosophy, adorned those ill-fated times, and charmed with the harmony of his versification. Learning however, was chiefly cultivated among the great, for luxury had not as yet sufficiently descended to the meaner ranks, to make them relish the elegant gratifications of life, for mankind must in some measure be satiated with the pleasures of sense, before they can think of making new inlets into the pleasures of imagination.
CHAP. XX. From the Perpetual Dictatorship of Sylla to the Triumvirate of Caesar, Pompey and Crassus.
U. C.
680
ALL factions being now apparently quelled in the empire, it was hoped, that peace would be restored, and that the commonwealth would have time to respire from the calamities it had sustained during the civil war. But the spirit of ambition had entered into the state, and the leading men now saw the possibility of obtaining sovereign power by Sylla's example. Of these chiefly now in favour with the senate and the people, Pompey and Crassus were foremost, both conquerors, both desirous of power, and both aiming at it by extending their popularity. We have already seen Pompey, while very young, performing one of the most active parts in the conduct of the empire: we have seen him joining with, and conquering in the cause of Sylla: soon after sent into Africa, and the first of the equestrian order who had a triumph. After that, siding against Lepidus, and then conquering the army which had been in Spain commanded by Sertorius. To crown all, honoured with the consulship in his absence, and that before the consular age. These successes had greatly inflamed his pride, and extended his desire of glory. Crassus, on the other hand, was equally desirous of obtaining popularity, but being wholly unequal to his rival in military fame, took another road to come at it: this was by amassing riches, which he gathered from the calamities of his country, only to involve it in new distresses. He was used to say, that no man should be reckoned wealthy, who was not able to maintain an army, and in fact, the number of his slaves was equal to a large one. He had besides, the character of a good speaker in the senate, and by his easy and familiar address, and a readiness to assist all who wanted either his protection or his money, he acquired great authority in public affairs. Besides the rivalship of power between these two great men, Crassus had another cause of resentment, which was, Pompey's assuming to himself the glory of terminating the Servile war, for which the other had actually received the honour of a triumph by the senate's command. Both therefore secretly wished to undermine each other, neither with views of ridding his country of the overgrown power of an aspiring citizen, but each with a desire of establishing his own.
The first opportunity that was afforded of discovering their mutual jealousy, was upon the disbanding their troops, with which they had conquered. Neither chose to begin, so that the most fatal consequences threatened from their dissension; but at length, Crassus stifling his resentment, laid down his command, and the other followed his example immediately after. The next trial between them was, who should be foremost in obtaining the favour of the people; Crassus entertained the populace at a thousand different tables, distributed corn to the families of the poor, and fed the greatest part of the citizens for near three months. Pompey on the other hand, laboured to abrogate the laws made against the people's authority by Sylla: he restored the power of judging to the knights, which had been formerly granted them by Gracchus, and gave back to the tribunes of the people all their former privileges. It was thus that each gave his private aims a public appearance, so that what was in reality ambition in both, took with one the name of liberality, with the other that of freedom.
However, the arts of Pompey seemed upon this occasion to give him the superiority. The tribunes, who were restored to all their former dignities, thought they could never sufficiently recompence their benefactor: they only waited for an opportunity of gratifying his highest ambition, and this soon offered. A number of Pyrates formerty employed by Mithridates, had by the long continuance of their success in plundering all they met, amassed great wealth, and got together many thousand men of several nations. They made choice of Cilicia for their principal place of resort, and not content with robbing by sea, ventured even upon conquests by land. Italy itself was not free from their invasions; where they often landed, and carried away whatever they met with in their hasty incursions. It was now therefore resolved at Rome, to punish their insolence by sending out a fleet that was capable of utterly destroying their power. For this, Gabinius the tribune preferred a law, that Pompey should be created admiral, with absolute authority against the Pyrates for three years: that his power should extend over the whole Mediterranean sea and its coasts, to a certain distance on land: that he should raise as many soldiers and mariners as he should think expedient; and that he should have from the public treasury, whatever sums of money he should think necessary for carrying on the war. This law which the senate vainly attempted to oppose, gave Pompey a degree of power which he might have easily converted to the detriment of his country: but nothing dangerous was to be feared from a man whose actions always testified more of vanity than ambition.
Pompey being thus furnished with absolute power over the fleet, distributed his lieutenants through the several bays and harbours of the Mediterranean with so much judgment, that he soon forced the enemy from their ports. In the mean time, he himself, at the head of the largest squadron of his shipping, sailed up and down, visiting and instructing such as he sent upon duty. By these means, in less than forty days, he obliged the enemy to take refuge in Cilicia, the only retreat that was left them. He soon followed them there, with sixty of his best ships, and though they had prepared to give him battle, yet they, upon sight of his fleet, and struck with the terrors of his name, submitted to his mercy. As their number amounted to above twenty thousand men, he was unwilling to destroy them, and yet to permit their returning to their ancient habitations, was not safe. He therefore removed them to places farther distant from the sea, where he gave them lands, and thus added new subjects and dominions to the empire of Rome.
This expedition having added greatly to Pompey's reputation, the tribunes now hoped it would be easier to advance their favourite still higher; wherefore Manlius, one of the number, preferred a law, that all the armies of the empire, with the government of all Asia, together with the management of the war against Mithridates and Tigranes, should be committed to him alone. A power so great and unlimited, awakened all the jealousy of the senate, this they considered as nothing less than proclaiming him sovereign of the whole empire. This was giving one, already master of the whole fleet, an unlimited power by land, and even seemed to tempt him to enslave his country. The weight of these reasons, and still more, the authority of the senate, were about to preponderate, and the tribunes seemed hesitating, whether they should not withdraw their motion, when Marcus Tullius Cicero rose up to second the law, and to pay his tribute of eloquence to the virtues of Pompey. It was the first time that this orator had ever addressed the assembly of the people, but it was impossible but that eloquence must have been irresistable then, which to this day continues to charm and improve posterity. The law passed with little opposition, the decree was confirmed by all the tribes of the people, and Pompey was thus peaceably invested with as great power, as Sylla had forced himself into through infinite difficulties.
Pompey being thus appointed to the command of the war against Mithridates, immediately departed for Asia, having made the proper preparations towards forwarding the campaign. The war against this monarch was one of the most important that had been hitherto undertaken by the Romans. We do not on this occasion, read of princes already overcome by luxury and pride, or trembling at the splendor of the Roman name, but of a mighty king, undaunted in every stage of his fortune, and like a lion, gaining new courage from every wound. His dominions were in fact well situated for supporting a war against an invading enemy. They bordered on the inaccessible mountains of Mount Caucasus, whose savage inhabitants he could bring into the field; they extended thence along the sea of Pontus, which he covered with his ships: besides he was rich, and ever purchasing new armies among the Scythians, a people of invincible bravery. I have already mentioned the resistance he made against Sylla, and the peace which that general forced him to accept: this however, being the effects of compulsion, lasted no longer, than while there were forces strong enough to compel him to its observance. Murena, whom Sylla had left behind, attempting to reduce him to obedience, only met with disgrace, and at last, a total overthrow. Some
time after, Mithridates having procured the alliance of Tigranes, king of Armenia, invaded the kingdom of Bythinia, which he had been formerly obliged to resign, and which had been lately bequeathed to the Romans by Nicomedes, the king of the country. To stop the progress of these conquests, Lucullus, an experienced general, had been sent from Rome, and upon his arrival, an engagement ensued, in which Mithridates lost his whole army, and being obliged to escape by sea, was very near falling into the hands of the enemy, had he not been taken up by a pyrate, who landed him safe in his own dominions. No way intimidated by these disasters, he soon raised another army, and in the beginning gained some advantages over the enemy. But Lucullus soon after cut off all his internal resources, and forced him to take shelter in the court of Tigranes, king of Armenia. The Roman general followed him thither also, and demanded him up; but Tigranes, though with no particular attachment to the deposed king, refused to deliver him, because Lucullus had omitted giving him all his titles. Pride, it seems, was the reigning passion of this weak monarch; he was more desirous of receiving homage, than of procuring power: it was usual with him, to oblige the kings he had conquered to attend him as slaves, when he appeared in public, having assumed, from his successes over the weaker states around him, the title of monarch of all monarchies. This, it seems, was the title the Roman general disdained granting him: the war now therefore changing its object, the generals of Tigranes were at first easily overcome, and though he soon after engaged at the head of two hundred and fifty thousand men, yet he met with no better success. These victories promised a speedy end to the war, which had now been protracted for seven years, and though the conduct of it was once more devolved upon Mithridates, yet he being pressed as much as ever, was obliged to take refuge in Lesser Armenia. Thither Lucullus was preparing to follow him, when accounts came, that Glabrio, who had been consul for the last year, was appointed to displace Lucullus in his command, and was actually arrived in Asia for that purpose. This disgrace it seems was owing to the intrigues of some of Lucullus's own soldiers, who harrassed by perpetual fatigues, and debauched by factious officers, had privately sent their complaints to the senate; wherefore, upon Glabrio's arrival, the whole army abandonned Lucullus, who could not see without indignation, their common enemy Mithridates resume all his power, and recover the whole kingdom of Pontus, while Glabrio, testifying no inclination to enter upon a troublesome command, continued an idle spectator of his successes, and chose to stop short in Bythinia. This mutinous spirit the troops of Lucullus, and the little inclination Glabrio seemed to have of engaging, gave rise to that general desire which prevailed, of appointing Pompey to terminate the war, who shortly after went over into Asia for that purpose.
The first duty which he thought incumbent upon him on his arrival, was to propose terms of accommodation to Mithridates, but this monarch having a little respired from his great and numerous losses, determined to tempt his fortune while it seemed propitious. He had found means to collect a very considerable army from the wrecks of his former power, and was resolved to follow the Romans into Armenia, where he expected to cut off their supplies: but being disappointed in this, he was obliged to fly, having first killed all such as were not able to accompany him in his retreat: however, he was pursued with great diligence by Pompey, and overtaken before he could have time to pass the river Euphrates: though it was then night, being compelled to engage, it is said, that the moon shining from behind the Roman army, lengthening their shadows so much, that the archers of Mithridates shot their arrows at these, mistaking the shade for the substance. However that be, his Asiatic soldiers were unable to withstand the force of the European infantry; he did all that lay in the power of a great and experienced general, to lead them on to the charge and to prevent their terrors, but they could not be brought to endure the shock, cowardice and effem nacy having been then, as well as now, the characteristics of an E
stern army. Being thus again overthrown, with the loss of almost all his forces, and finding himself hemmed in on every side by the Romans, he made a desperate effort, at the head of eight hundred horse, to break through them, and thus effected his escape, though with the loss of five hundred of his followers in the attempt. He had long been acquainted with distress, but his present situation seemed more deplorable than ever: he continued for several days sorrowfully wandering through the forests that covered the country, leading his horse in his hand, and subsisting on whatever fruits he accidentally found on his way: in this forlorn situation he met with about three thousand of his soldiers who had escaped from the general carnage, and by their assistance he was conducted to one of the magazines, where he had deposited those treasures that were intended to support the war. He sent from thence to Tigranes for aid, but that monarch was too much engaged in suppressing the rebellion of one of his own sons at home, to be able to send any succours abroad. Disappointed on that side, still however, he would not despair, but fled to Colchis, a state which had formerly acknowledged his power. Being pursued thither also by Pompey, he took another dreadful journey, crossed the Araxes, marched from danger to danger, through the country of the Lazi, and assembling all the barbarians he met with in his way, induced the Scythian princes to declare against Rome▪ Stedfast in his enmity, he continued his opposition, even though he found his own family confederating against him. Although betrayed by his son Macharis, and tho' his life was attempted by Pharnaces, yet he still aimed at great designs, and even in the heart of Asia, projected the invasion of the Roman empire: this he intended to effect by marching into Europe, and there being joined by the fierce nations that inhabited Germany and Gaul, to cross the Alps, into Italy, as Hannibal had done before him: but his timid Asiatic soldiers were ill-disposed to second the great views of their leader. Upon being apprized of his intentions, a mutiny ensued, which was promoted by his son Pharnaces, who had been long desirous of gaining the favour of Pompey by parricide. Mithridates being thus obliged to take refuge in his palace, to escape the fury of the army, sent to his son for leave to depart, offering him the free possession of all that remained of his wretched fortunes, and his title to those dominions, of which he had been deprived by the Romans. To this, the unnatural son made no direct reply, conscious that he was offered only what could not be taken away, but turning to the slave that brought him themessage, he bade him, with a stern countenance, tell his father, that death was all that now remained for him. Such an horrid instance of filial impiety added new poignance to the wretched monarch's affliction, he could not refrain from venting his imprecations, and from wishing that such an unnatural child might, one day, meet with similar ingratitude from his own children. Upon this, coming down from his own appartment, where he had been for some time alone, he entered that particularly assigned to his wives, children and domestics, where he bid all those prepare for death, who did not chuse to undergo the horrors of a Roman captivity. They all readily consented to die with their monarch, and chearfully taking the poison which he had in readiness, expired before him. As for himself, having used his body much to antidotes, the poison had but little effect, whereupon he attempted to dispatch himself with his sword, but that also failing, a Gaulish soldier, whose name was Bitaeus, performed this friendly office. Thus died Mithridates, betrayed by his son, and forsaken by an army that seemed terrified at the greatness of his enterprizes. His fortune was various, his courage always the same: he had for twentyfive years opposed Rome, and though he was often betrayed by his captains, his children, and his wives, yet he continually found resources against his enemies, and was formidable to the very last.
In the mean time, Pompey was diligently employed in pursuing his advantages over Tigranes, who had not only to resist the Romans, but his own three sons that had united in rebellion against him. Two of these he had the fortune to overthrow, and put to death, but he was soon after compelled by Pompey to surrender. His remaining son, who had taken refuge in the Roman camp, did all that lay in his power to prevent a reconciliation, but Pompey reprimanding his disobedience, treated the old king with great humanity, and restored him the greatest part of his former dominions, only depriving him of his conquests, and fining him six thousand talents towards defraying the expences of the war. His son continuing still averse to the treaty, and threatening his father's life, was confined by the general's command, in order to be reserved for his triumph into Rome. Nothing now therefore being able to check the progress of Pompey's arms, he marched onward, over the vast mountains of Taurus, setting up and deposing kings at pleasure. Darius the king of Media, and Antiochus king of Syria, were compelled to submit to his clemency; Phraates king of Parthia, was obliged to retire, and send to entreat a peace. From thence, extending his conquests over the Thuraeans and Arabians, he reduced all Syria and Pontus into Roman provinces. Then turning towards Judea, he summoned Aristobulus, who had usurped the priesthood from his elder brother Hyrcanus, to appear before him: but Aristobulus had fortified the temple of Jerusalem against him, and refused to answer. This venerable place, which was thus converted into a garrison, being very strong from its situation, held out for three months, but was at last taken, and twelve thousand of its defenders slain. Pompey entered this great sanctuary with a mixture of resolution and fear; he shewed an eager curiosity to enter into the Holy of Holies: there he gazed for some time upon those things which it was unlawful for any but the priests themselves to behold. Notwithstanding he shewed so much veneration for the place, that he forbore touching any of the vast treasures deposited there. After restoring Hyrcanus to the priesthood and government, he took Aristobulus with him, to grace his triumph upon his return. This triumph, which lasted two days, was the most splendid that had ever entered the gates of Rome: therein were exposed the names of fifteen conquered kingdoms, eight hundred cities taken, twenty-nine repeopled, and a thousand castles brought to acknowledge the empire of Rome. Among the prisoners led in triumph, appeared the son of Tigranes, Aristobulus king of Judea, the sister of Mithridates, together with the hostages of the Albanians, Iberians, and the king of Comagena. The treasures that were brought home, amounted to near four millions of our money, and the trophies and other splendors of the procession were such, that the spectators seemed lost in the magnificent profusion. All these victories however, rather served to heighten the glory, than to encrease the power of Rome, they only made it a more glaring object of ambition, and exposed its liberties to greater danger. Those liberties indeed, seemed devoted to ruin on every side, for even while Pompey was pursuing his conquests abroad, Rome was at the verge of ruin, from a conspiracy at home.
This conspiracy was projected and carried on by Sergius Catiline, a patrician by birth, who resolved to build his own power on the downfal of his country. He was singularly formed both by art and nature to conduct a conspiracy: he was possessed of courage, equal to the most desperate attempts, and eloquence to give a colour to his ambition: ruined in his fortunes, profligate in his manners, and vigilant in pursuing his aims: he was insatiable after wealth, only with a view to lavish it in his guilty pleasures: in short, as Cicero describes him, he was a compound of opposite passions, intemperate to excess, yet patient of labour to a wonder; severe with the virtuous, debauched with the gay, so that he had all the vicious for his friends by inclination, and he attached even some of the good, by the specious shew of pretended virtue. However, his real character was at length very well known at Rome; he had been accused of debauching a vestal virgin; he was suspected of murdering his son, to gratify a criminal passion; and it was notorious, that in the proscription of Sylla, he had killed his own brother, to make his court to the tyrant.
Catiline having contracted many debts by the looseness of such an ill-spent life, was resolved to extricate himself from them by any means however unlawful: his first aim therefore was at the consulship, in which he hoped to repair his shattered fortune, by the plunder of the provinces, but in this he was frustrated. This disgrace so operated upon a mind naturally warm, that he instantly entered into an association with Piso and some others, of desperate fortunes like himself, in which it was resolved to kill the consuls that had been just chosen, with several other senators, and to share the government among themselves. These designs however, were discovered before they were ripe for action, and the senate took care to obviate their effects. Some time after, he again sued for the consulship, and was again disappointed; the great Cicero, whose character will be given hereafter, being preferred before him. Enraged at these repeated mortifications, he now breathed nothing but revenge: his design was, had he then obtained the consulship, and with it the command of the armies of the empire, to have seized upon the liberties of his country, and governed alone. At length, impatience under his disappointments would not permit him to wait for the ripening of his schemes, wherefore he formed the mad resolution of usurping the empire, though yet without means adequate to the execution.
Many of those who were in the former conspiracy of Piso, still remained attached to his interests: these he assembled to about the number of thirty, where he informed them of his aims and his hopes, settled a plan of operations, and fixed a day for the execution. It was resolved among them, that a general insurrection should be raised throughout Italy, the different parts of which were assigned to the different leaders. Rome was to be fired in several places at once; and Catiline, at the head of an army raised in Etruria, was in the general confusion to possess himself of the city, and massacre all the senators. Lentulus, one of his profligate assistants, who had been praetor or judge in the city, was to preside in their general councils: Cethegus, a man who sacrificed the possession of great present power, to the hopes of gratifying his revenge against Cicero, was to direct the massacre through the city, and Cassius was to conduct those who fired it. But the vigilance of Cicero being a chief obstacle to their designs, Catiline was very desirous to see him taken off before he left Rome; upon which, two knights of the company undertook to kill him the next morning in his bed, in an early visit on pretence of business. The meeting however, was no sooner over, than Cicero had information of all that passed in it, for by the intrigues of a woman, named Fulvia, he had gained over Curius, her lover and one of the conspirators, to send him a punctual account of all their deliberations. Having taken proper precautions to guard himself against the designs of his morning visitors, who were punctual to the appointment; he next took care to provide for the defence of the city, and assembling the senate, consulted what was best to be done in this time of danger. The first step taken, was to offer considerable rewards for farther discoveries, and then to prepare for the defence of the state. Catiline, to shew how well he could dissemble or justify any crime, went boldly to the senate, declaring his innocence, and offering to give any security for his behaviour. These professions, urged with an apparent humility, gained over many of the Roman senators, but Cicero incensed at his effrontery, instead of pursuing the business of the day, rose up, and addressing himself to Catiline, broke out into a most severe invective against him. The speech is still remaining in which, with all the fire of incensed eloquence, he lays open the whole course of his crimes, and the particulars of his present impeachment. When Cicero was seated, Catiline rose in his turn, and with well prepared dissimulation, and a dejected countenance, besought the senate not over rashly to credit vain reports concerning him, nor believe, that a person of his rank, whose ancestors, and whose services demanded rather fame than censure, could be guilty of such vile imputations. While he was continuing his defence, and beginning to introduce some reflections against the consul, the chief of which was the obscurity of his original, the senate refused to hear him; whereupon he declared aloud, that since he was denied a vindication of himself, and driven headlong by his enemies, he would extinguish the flame which was raised about him, in universal ruin: thus saying, he rushed out of the assembly, threatening destruction to all his opposers. As soon as he was returned to his house, and began to reflect on what had passed, he perceived it vain to dissemble any longer; wherefore, resolving to enter at once into action, before the commonwealth was prepared to oppose him, after a short conference with Lentulus and Cethegus, he left Rome by night with a small retinue, to make the best of his way towards Etruria, were Manlius, one of the conspirators was raising an army to support him.
In the mean time, Cicero took proper precautions to secure all those of the conspiracy who remained in Rome, and induced the people by the power of his eloquence to second his designs. Lentulus, Cethegus, Caesius and several others were put in confinement, and it was propounded to the senate, what course should be taken with the prisoners. The principal evidences against them were the ambassadors of the Allobroges, a fierce people inhabiting the countries now called Dauphiny and Savoy, who deposed, that they had been applied to, to furnish a body of horse whenever the war should begin, but that being apprehensive of the danger, they had declined the proposal, at the same time producing the letters of Lentulus to them for that purpose, marked with his own seal. Upon this, a great debate arose in the house concerning the punishment of the prisoners, a deliberation of great delicacy and importance. Capital punishments were rare and even odious in Rome, while on the other hand, the crimes of which they were convicted, required a quick and exemplary punishment. Silanus, the ensuing year's consul, was of opinion, that they should all be put to death; to this, all who spoke after him readily assented, till it came to Julius Caesar's turn to deliver his opinion. This extraordinary man, who was chosen praetor for the ensuing year, had from the very beginning of his life marked out a way to universal empire, and now thought, that a shew of clemency upon this occasion, would conciliate the favour of the people. It is supposed also by some, that he secretly favoured the conspiracy, and only waited for its first fortunes, to put himself at its head. He therefore observed, in an elegant and elaborate speech (for of all orators in the commonwealth, Cicero alone excelled him) that those who opined for death, were on the merciful side, since death was but the relief of the miserable, and left no sense of good or ill beyond it. The heinousness of the present crime, he said, might justify any severity, but the example was dangerous in a free state, where power sometimes happened to fall into bad hands. Though no danger could be apprehended from such a consul as Cicero, yet in other times, and under other consuls, none could tell how far justice might stop short of cruelty: his opinion therefore, was that the conspirators should be sentenced to perpetual confinement. His speech, delivered with all the arts of a complete orator, seemed to make great impression on the whole assembly: Silanus himself began to excuse and mitigate the severity of his former sentence, and even the friends of the consul were almost convinced, when Porcius Cato at last stood up to oppose it: No two characters could be more opposite, than his to that of the former speaker. Caesar was merciful, gentle and insinuating; Cato, severe, forceful and overbearing; Caesar loved his country, in hopes one day to govern it; Cato loved it more than other countries, only because he thought it more free: the one scrupled no means, however illicit, to attain his ends; the other laboured but to one end, by one way, the most exalted justice conducting him to the most inflexible virtue. In fact, the opinions of the Greek philosophers began to give a bent to the dispositions of the great men of the time, so that Caesar was a follower of Epicurus, and Cato was a rigid stoic. He began therefore, by describing Cicero as he really was, a man dignified with almost every virtue conducive to his own happiness, together with all the talents that could improve happiness in others. He proceeded, by wondering how any debate could arise about punishing men, who had begun an actual war upon their country: that he had never pardoned in himself, the very wanderings of his heart, and could not easily forgive the most flagitious actions in others: that they were not deliberating on the fate of the prisoners only, but on that of Catiline's whole army, which would be animated or dejected, in proportion to the vigour of their decrees: wherefore his opinion was, since the criminals had been convicted both by testimony and their own confession, that they should suffer death, according to the custom of their ancestors, in circumstances of the like nature. His speech was seconded by another, still more forceful, from Cicero, and these carried such conviction, that they put an end to the debate. The vote for the death of the conspirators was no sooner passed, than Cicero resolved to put it in execution, lest the night, which was coming on, should produce any new disturbance. Lentulus, Cethegus, and the rest, were therefore taken from their respective sureties, and conducted by the chief magistrates, who delivered them over to the executioners, who presently strangled them in prison.
In the mean time, Catiline had raised an army of twelve thousand men, of which a fourth part only was compleatly armed, the rest begin furnished with what chance afforded, darts, lances and clubs. He refused at first to enlist slaves, who flocked to him in great numbers, trusting to the proper strength of the conspiracy; but upon the approach of the consul, who was sent against him, and the arrival of the news, that his confederates were put to death in Rome, the face of his affairs was entirely altered. His first attempt therefore, was by long marches, to make his escape over the Appennines into Gaul; but in this his hopes were disappointed, all the passes being strictly guarded by an army under Metellus, superior to his own. Being thus hemmed in on every side, and seeing all things desperate, with nothing left him, but either to die or conquer,
e resolved to make one vigorous effort against that army which pursued him. Antonius the consul being himself sick, the command devolved upon his lieutenant, Petreius, who after a fierce and bloody action, in which he lost a considerable part of his best troops, destroyed Catiline and his whole army, which fought desperately to the last man: they all fell in the very ranks in which they stood when alive, and as if inspired with the spirit of their leader, fought not so much to conquer, as to sell a bloody victory, and to mingle public calamity with their private ruin. The commonwealth being thus freed from their apprehensions of danger, unanimously concurred in their applauses of Cicero, whose councils had been the chief means of removing them. Public thanks were decreed him by the senate, and at the instance of Cato, he was styled the Father of his country, the people, with loud acclamations, confirming the justice of the decree.
The extinction of this conspiracy seemed only to leave an open theatre for the ambition of the great men of the state to display itself in. Pompey was now returned in triumph from conquering the East, as he had before been victorious in Europe and Africa. Every eye was fixed upon him, as being the most powerful man in the state, and capable of governing it at his pleasure. His success in war had procured him the surname of Great, and he was still more pleased with the title, than the consciousness of deserving it. This was the post his ambition aimed at, he seemed more desirous of being the leader, than the ruler of his country; of being applauded, than obeyed. He had it in his power often to make himself master of the state by force, but he either declined the fatigue of it, or lived in perpetual expectation of receiving as a gift, what he did not chuse to extort by violence. His parts were specious, rather than penetrating, and his chief instrument in governing, was dissimulation: but being a better soldier than statesman, he was adored abroad, and gained in the camp that homage which was denied him at home.
The first thing he did upon his return, was to direct the election of both the consuls, by whose help he hoped he should readily obtain the ratification of all that he had disposed of in Asia, together with a distribution of lands to his soldiers, of part of the countries they had conquered. However, he was disappointed in both these expectations; the senate, who began to see and dread his power, were desirous of besieging it by every opposition. The two consuls turned against him as well as the rest, and were seconded by all those who were not the profest instruments of his party. The tribune Fl
vius, who was the promoter of the law, impatient of the delay, and animated by Pompey's power, had the hardiness to commit Metellus the consul to prison, and when all the senate followed, and resolved to go to prison with him, the tribune put his chair against the door to keep them out. This violence however, gave such offence to the people, that Pompey found it adviseable to draw off the tribune, and relea
e the consul. From this opposition in the senate, he began to find, that his own interest alone, would not be sufficient to rule the commonwealth, without taking in some of the most powerful men of the state, not as partners, to divide his power, but as instruments to assist i
.
Crassus, as we have already observed, was the richest man in Rome, and next him, possessed of the greatest authority: his party in the senate was even stronger than that of Pompey, his rival, and the envy raised against him was less. He and Pompey had been long disunited by an opposition of interests, and of characters: however, it was from a continuance of their mutual jealousies, that the state was in some measure to expect its future safety. It was in this situation of things, that Julius Caesar, who had lately gone praetor into Spain, and had returned with great riches and glory, resolved to convert their mutual jealousy to his own advantage. This celebrated man was nephew to Marius by the female line, and descended from one of the most illustrious families in Rome: he had already mounted by the regular gradations of office, having been quaestor, aedile, and grand pontiff, and praetor in Spain. Being descended from popular ancestors, he warmly espoused the side of the people, and shortly after, the death of Sylla procured those whom he had banished to be recalled. He had all along declared for the populace against the senate, and by this became their most favourite magistrate. He had received proper intelligence during his administration in Spain, of what was going forward, and resolved to return, to improve occurrences in his favour. His services in Spain had deserved a triumph, and his ambition aspired at the consulship. However, it was contrary to law for him to have both, for to obtain the consulship, he must come into the city, and by entering the city, he was disqualified for a triumph. In this dilemma, he preferred solid power to empty parade, and determined to stand for the consulship, at the same time, resolving to attach the two most powerful men in the state to him, by effecting their reconciliation. He accordingly began first, by offering his services to Pompey, promising him his aid in having all his acts passed, notwithstanding the senate's opposition. Pompey, pleased at the acquisition of a person of so much merit, readily granted him his confidence and protection. He next applied to Crassus, who from former connexions was disposed to become still more nearly his friend: at length, finding neither averse to an union of interests, he took an opportunity of bringing them together; and remonstrating to them the advantage, as well as the necessity of a reconciliation, had art enough to persuade them to forget former animosities. A combination was thus formed, by which they agreed, that nothing should be done in the commonwealth, but what received their mutual concurrence and approbation. This was called the first Triumvirate, by which we find the constitution weakened by a new interest, that had not hitherto taken place in the government, very different from that either of the senate or the people, and yet dependant on both. A power like this however, as it depended upon the nice conduct of different interests, could not be of long continuance, and in fact, it was soon after swallowed up in the military power, which took away even the shadow of liberty.
CHAP. XXI. From the beginning of the first Triumvirate to the death of Pompey.
U. C.
694
THE commonwealth might at this time be considered, as made up of three different bodies, each pursuing separate interests. The Triumvirate aiming at sovereign authority, and desirous, by depressing the senate and alluring the people, to extend their own influence. The senate, equally apprehensive of the three great men who controled them, and of the people who opposed them, formed a middle interest between both, and desirous of re-establishing the aristocracy which had been set up by Sylla, gave their struggles the name of freedom. The people, on the other hand, were desirous of freedom in the most extensive sense, and with a fatal blindness, only apprehensive of the invasion of it from the side of the senate gave all their influence to the triumvirate, whose promises were great, and pretences specious.
The first thing Caesar did, upon being taken into the triumvirate, was to avail himself of the interest of his confederates to obtain the consulship. The senate had still some small influence left, and though they were obliged to chuse him, yet they gave him for a colleague, one Bibulus, who they supposod would be a check upon his power: but the opposition was too strong, for even superior abilities to resist it, so that Bibulus, after a slight attempt in favour of the senate, remained inactive the succeeding part of the year. Caesar however, was by no means so, but began his schemes for empire, by ingratiating himself with the people. He preferred a law for dividing certain lands in Campania, among such of the poor citizens, as had at least three children. This proposal was just enough in itself, and only criminal from the views of the proposer. The senate being resolved to oppose him in all his schemes, endeavoured to thwart him in this, which only served to exasperate the people still more against them▪ The multitude drove them from the place of assembling with stones: Cato and Bibulus, who were most active against the law, were compelled to retire, and the rest of the senate were obliged to take an oath, to confirm the observance of it. During this struggle, Pompey and Crassus became the dupes of their associate, driving the law forward with all their activity and interest: the former publickly declared, that if any would come (as he was informed they would) with swords to oppose it, he would be the first to lift up his shield in its defence. By this conduct he lost all his former influence in the senate, while Caesar only gained all the popularity of a law, which was of his own proposing. From that time he acted entirely without the assistance of his colleague, so that it was jestingly called the consulship of Julius, and Caesar intimating, that all things were done only by him.
Having thus ingratiated himself with the people, his next step was to procure the favour of the knights, who made a very powerful body in the state. They had for many years been the the financers or farmers of the public revenue, and by that means had acquired vast riches, however, they now began to complain of their inability to pay the stipulated sums into the treasury. Caesar therefore procured a law to abate a third part of their disbursements, notwithstanding the opposition of the senate. In this manner, having advanced his influence among the lower orders of the state, he determined to attach Pompey still more closely to him, by giving him his daughter Julia in marriage, a woman with every accomplishment that could tend to cement their confederacy.
Having thus strengthened himself at home, he next deliberated with his confederates, about sharing the foreign provinces of the empire between them. The partition was soon made, Pompey chose Spain for his own part; for being fatigued with conquest, and satiated with military fame, he was willing to take his pleasures at Rome; and there being no appearance of revolt in that province, he knew it could easily be governed by his lieutenant. Crassus chose Syria for his part of the empire, which province, as it had hitherto enriched the generals who had subdued it, would, he hoped, gratify him in this his most favourite pursuit. To Caesar was left the provinces of Gaul, composed of many fierce and powerful nations, most of them unsubdued, and the rest only professing a nominal subjection. Wherefore, as it was rather appointing him to conquer than command, this government was granted him for five years, as if, by its continuance, to compensate for its danger. Having thus divided the empire between them, they each of them prepared for their respective destinations, but previous to Caesar's setting out, there was still an obstacle that seemed to blast his aims, and which he wished to have removed. This was Tullius Cicero, whom we have already seen, by his penetration and eloquence, defeating the conspiracy of Catiline, and who still continued a watchful guardian over the liberties of Rome. This great orator and statesman, or to give him an higher appellation still, this excellent philosopher had, from a very humble original, raised himself into the foremost rank of the state: he was endowed with all the wisdom and all the virtues that could adorn a man. However, his wisdom, by directing his views over too wide a sphere, often overlooked those advantages, which are clearly discerned by short-sighted cunning, and his virtues, by being applauded by others, and receiving his own conscious approbation, enclined him to vanity. He seemed, in his general conduct, guilty of a fault too common with men of great abilities, a desire of uniting in himself incompatible qualities, which gave an air of ridicule to his greatest actions. Thus, while he aimed at being the first orator in the state, he was eager also to be thought the best jester; while he taught men to contemn vanity, he was seen earnestly intriguing for the honour of a triumph, which however he had done nothing to merit. While no man saw the corruptions of the times more clearly than he, yet he had hopes of governing so corrupt a commonwealth without fraud. Thus, though he saw through every person he conversed with, yet he suffered himself to be the dupe of many, rather than recede from the rectitude of his aims. It was no wonder therefore, that Caesar was desirous of expelling such a character from the republic, which was so unlike his own: to effect this, he resolved to take into his party Publius Clodius, a man of patrician birth, dissolute manners, great popularity and an inveterate enemy of Cicero. Besides an opposition of character, a principal cause of their enmity was, Cicero's having formerly appeared against him upon his trial before the people, for an offence against the matrons of Rome, whose mysteries he had intruded upon dressed in woman's cloaths. He was at this time a tribune of the people, although he had been obliged to get himself adopted by a plebeian, before he could obtain that office. The hopes of revenging himself upon Cicero, in some measure incited him to stand for it, and the concurrence of Caesar and Pompey with his pretensions, soon assured him of success. He therefore publickly began to accuse Cicero, for having put the late conspirators to death, who being citizens, ought to have been adjudged by the people. Cicero, terrified at this accusation, did all that lay in his power to oppose it. He applied to Caesar to take him as his lieutenant into Gaul, but Clodius had art enough to allure him from that design, by pretending, that his resentment was rather a matter of form than of revenge. Pompey too contributed to put him off his guard by a promise of protection, so that the cunning of these men of moderate abilities was more than a match for the wisdom of the philosopher. Clodius having first caused a law to be enacted, importing, that any who had condemned a Roman citizen unheard, should himself be banished, soon after impeached Cicero upon it. It was in vain that this great man went up and down the city, soliciting his cause in the habit of a suppliant, and attended by many of the first young noblemen whom he had taught the rules of eloquence; those powers of speaking which had been so often successful in defending the cause of others, totally seemed to forsake him in his own; he was banished by the votes of the people, four hundred miles from Italy; his houses were ordered to be demolished, and his goods set up to sale. None now remained that could defend the part of the senate but Cato, and he was shortly after sent into Cyprus, under pretence of doing him a favour, but in reality in order to leave an open theatre for the triumvirate to act in. Caesar, during these intrigues, pretended to be an unconcerned spectator, and to be wholly occupied in his preparations for going into Gaul. He in fact, left nothing undone, that might advance the speed, or encrease the strength of this expedition; wherefore, leaving Pompey to guard their mutual interests at home, he marched into his province at the head of four legions, that were granted him by the senate, and two more that were lent him by his new associate in the empire.
It would be impossible in the narrow compass which I have assigned myself, to enumerate all the battles Caesar fought, and the states he subdued, in his expeditions into Gaul and Britain, which continued eight years. He has himself given a detail of them in his Commentaries, a work which does as much honour to his abilities as a writer, as his conduct did to his talents as a general. To abridge such a work, is but to destroy it; to turn it into a dry catalogue of names, that cease to interest, and of battles that would appear to be all the same: it will be sufficient just to mention those victories which a great and experienced general, at the head of a disciplined army, gained over the barbarous and tumultuary, though numerous forces, that were led to oppose him. The Helvetians were the first that were brought into subjection, with the loss of near two hundred thousand men; those who remained after the carnage, were sent by Caesar, in safety to their forests, from whence they had issued. The Germans, with Ariovistus at their head, were next cut off, to the number of eighty thousand, their monarch himself narrowly escaping in a little boat across the Rhine. The Belgae were cut off with such great slaughter, that marshes and deep rivers were rendered passable from the heaps of slain. The Nervians, who were the most warlike of those barbarous nations, made head for a short time, and fell upon the Romans with such fury, that their army was in danger of being utterly routed; but Caesar himself hastily catching up a buckler, rushed through his army into the midst of the enemy, by which means, he so turned the fate of the day, that the barbarians were all cut off to a man. The Celtic Gauls, who were powerful at sea, were next brought under subjection. After them, the Suevi, the Menapii, and all the nations from the Mediterranean to the British sea. From thence, stimulated by the desire of conquest, he crossed over into Britain, upon pretence, that the natives had furnished his enemies with continual supplies. Upon approaching the shores, he found them covered with men to oppose his landing, and his forces were in danger of being driven back, till the standard-bearer of the tenth legion boldly leaped ashore, and being well assisted by Caesar, the natives were put to flight. The Britons being terrified at Caesar's power, sent to desire a peace, which was granted them, and some hostages delivered. A storm however, soon after destroying great part of his fleet, they resolved to take advantage of the disaster, and marched against him with a powerful army. But what could a naked undisciplined army do against forces that had been exercised under the greatest generals, and hardened by the conquest of the greatest part of the world. Being overthrown, they were obliged once more to sue for peace, which Caesar granted them, and then returned to the continent. But his absence once more inspired this people, naturally fond of liberty, with a resolution to disclaim the Roman power, wherefore, he resolved upon a second expedition, where, by repeated victories, he so intimidated their general Cassibelanus, that he no longer attempted to resist him in the plains, but keeping in the forests, attempted to protract the war. However, Caesar pursuing him closely, and crossing the Thames with his army, so straitened him, that he was obliged to submit to the conqueror's conditions, who imposed an annual tribute, and took hostages for the payment of it. Thus, in less than nine years, he conquered, together with Britain, all that country which extends from the Mediterranean to the German sea. It is said, that in these expeditions, he took eight hundred cities, subdued three hundred different states, overcame three millions of men, one of which fell on the field of battle, and one was made prisoners of war. These conquests, and this destruction of mankind, may, in the present advancement of morals, be regarded with detestation, but they were regarded as the heighth of human virtue, at the time they were atchieved. In fact, if we examine Caesar's great assiduity in providing for his army, his great skill in disposing them for battle, and his amazing intrepidity during the engagement, we shall not find a greater general in all antiquity. But in one thing he excelled all, with incontestible superiority, namely, in his humanity to the vanquished. This seemed a virtue but little known to the times he lived in, so that mankind were then more obliged to heroes, than they at present chuse to confess; almost each of whom has introduced and given sanction to some new virtues, which philosophers▪ might have speculatively applauded before, but could never have influence to make popular, without such an example.
While Caesar was thus encreasing his reputation and riches abroad, Pompey, who remained all the time in Rome, steadily co-operated with his ambition, and advanced his interests, while he vainly supposed he was forwarding his own. Upon the first news of his great exploits, he procured a decree of the senate for a solemn festival of fifteen days, which was doing Caesar greater honour, than any general had received before him. When Caesar, after remaining in Gaul three years, passed over into Italy, to refresh himself for a while from his fatigues, in order to renew the next campaign with greater vigour, Pompey, together with Crassus, took a journey from Rome to meet him: and there, when Caesar pleaded the cessity of being continued in his command, his associates resolved to endeavour at the consulship for the next year, in order to keep him his province for five years longer. This design was so displeasing to the senate, and the dissentions so violent concerning it, that they went into mourning, as in a case of public calamity. Cato did all that lay in his power to oppose their aims, declaring upon every occasion, that the liberty of Rome was in danger: he even procured one Domitius to offer himself a candidate, against the interest of the whole triumvirate. Pompey however, knew how little the indignation of the senate could avail against the power he was already possessed of, wherefore he sent a body of armed men against Domitius, as he was going to offer himself at the election. These killed the slave that preceded him, and then dispersed the company; Cato being wounded, and Domitius hardly escaping with life. By this violence, Pompey becoming master of the suffrages, he and Crassus were declared consuls, and in consequence of this promotion, Caesar was continued five years longer in Gaul; Crassus was appointed to Syria, where, as we have said, he expected to reap an harvest rather of wealth, than of glory; and Pompey was fixed in his government of Spain, which he governed wholly by his lieutenants, pretending that he could not leave Rome, because of the general charge of provisions which was committed to his care; an office procured him by Cicero, who was lately recalled from banishment by his influence, the popularity of Clodius having given him some umbrage.
In this manner Pompey continued to dictate to the senate, and to exercise his authority rather than encrease it. But he began at last to be rouzed from his lethargy, by the rising reputation of Caesar. The fame of that great commander's valour, riches, and humanity, began secretly to give him pain, and to make him suppose they began to eclipse his own, for as being more recent, they were more talked of. He feared nothing so much as an equal in point of glory, and yet by his own arts, he had raised Caesar's so high, that he was threatened with a superior. He now therefore began, by a change of the same arts, to do all that was in his power to diminish Caesar's reputation, obliging the magistrates not to publish any letters they received from him, till he had diminished the credit of them, by spreading disadvantageous reports. While every thing thus portended a repture between these principal men, accident contributed not a little to widen the separation, by the death of Julia, Pompey's wife, who had not a little contributed to improve the harmony that subsisted between them. From this moment, Pompey resolved to pursue his own particular advancement, and to depress that of one, whom he found, though too late, to share an equal degree of reputation with himself.
However, his efforts were now too late, Caesar was in possession of a great share of popularity, which it had been the study of his life to promote: he was loved almost to adoration by his army, whose attachment he had gained by his humanity and great rewards: he seemed to acquire immense riches, only to bestow them upon the bravest and most deserving of his soldiers, particularly those who were worn out in his service: he paid the debts of many of his officers, and gave them every motive to wean their love from the public, and to place it on their commander. Nor were his attentions fixed upon his soldiers alone, but extended to his partizans in the city; he assisted these, by promoting them to offices, lavishing large sums of money to bribe their elections; he pillaged the wealth of his provinces, to spread it among the citizens of Rome, and gave even his rapine an air of generosity.
All this was frequently told Pompey, but he at first wished it true, then pretended to disbelieve it, and at last found, that he had committed a fatal oversight, but suffered that consideration to prevail as late as possible. However, he at length wished to resume that power, which he had formerly suffered others to share, and an opportunity soon offered of obtaining his desire. As all elections had for many years
U. C.
701
been carried on by sedition and bribery, there seemed about that time to be a total cessation of authority, no magistrates having been elected for the space of eight months. This state of anarchy was heightened still more by the death of Clodius, who was killed by Milo, in the country, as he was upon his return to town. As Clodius had been always a favourite of the people, his body was immediately brought to Rome, and exposed publickly to view. Nothing more was requisite to kindle a tumult, the multitude ran furiously to Milo's house, to set it on fire, but being defended by his partizans, Milo repulsed them with great slaughter. Upon this, returning to the dead body, they drew it to the senate-house, and there making a pile of the seats of the magistrates, consumed both the body and that stately building together. After this, the mutineers dispersed themselves all over the city, where, under pretence of searching for Milo's friends, they committed the greatest outrages that unlicensed fury could suggest. Thus every street was filled with murders and quarrels, while none could walk from their own houses in safety. In this universal tumult and distraction, all eyes were turned upon Pompey, to restore tranquility, and give the sufferers redress. Many were for creating him dictator, but Cato, unwilling to endanger the state by entrusting the greatest power to the most notorious ambition, prevailed, that instead of being created dictator, he should be made Sole consul, which differed from the former office, but in this, that he was accountable for male-administration, upon the resignation of his employment. In consequence of this accession of power, a body of troops were allotted to him, a thousand talents were granted to subsist them, the government of Spain was continued to him for four years longer, and Milo was accused of having killed Clodius, and condemned to banishment, even though Cicero himself undertook to defend him. It seems, the tribunal from whence he harrangued the populace, was surrounded by the consul's soldiers, so that he was quite intimidated, and unable to proceed with his usual impetuosity. Pompey who had hitherto acted alone, then took in Metellus for his colleague, whose daughter Cornelia he had lately married, a woman of great merit and beauty, and by this new alliance, he supposed he had confirmed his former authority.
Caesar, who now began to be sensible of the jealousies of Pompey, took occasion, from the many honours which the latter had just received, to sollicit for the consulship in his turn, with a prolongation of his government in Gaul, desirous of trying whether Pompey would thwart or promote his pretensions. In this, Pompey seemed to be quite inactive, but at the same time, privately employed two of his creatures, who alledged in the senate, that the laws did not permit a person that was absent, to offer himself as a candidate for that high office. Pompey's view in this was, to allure Caesar from his government, in order to stand for the consulship in person. Caesar however, perceiving his artifice, chose to remain in his province, convinced, that while he headed such an army as was now devoted to his interests, he could, at any time, give laws as well as magistrates to the state.
The senate, which were now devoted to Pompey, because he had for some time attempted to defend them from the encroachments of the people, ordered the two legions which were in Caesar's army, belonging to Pompey, home, as it was pretended, to oppose the Parthians, but in reality, to diminish Caesar's power. Caesar easily saw their motive, but as his plans were not yet ready for execution, he sent them home, in pursuance of the orders of the senate, having previously attached the officers to him with benefits, and the soldiers with a bounty. The next step the senate took, was to recall Caesar from his government, as his time was now very near expiring. Every person perceived the danger the state was in, from the continuance of his command over an army entirely devoted to his interests, and become almost invincible by long experience. It was the general sense therefore of the house, that Caesar should return, and some went so far, as to talk of bringing him to an account for the large sums of money he had extorted from the provinces of Gaul. But Caesar was not without his friends in the senate: among the rest, Curio, who had lately been elected a tribune of the people, and had been bribed to his interests, secretly favoured his cause. Curio was a man of strong eloquence, great resolution, loaded with debts, and deeply engaged to Caesar, for extricating him from a part of them: he therefore pretended highly to approve the resolutions of the house, and asserted, that he could never think liberty secure, while such armies were in readiness to destroy it, whenever their leaders should give the word of command: but then, he thought the chief security of the state depended upon the fear which these armies, whether in Spain, Gaul, or Italy, stood in of each other. It was therefore his opinion, that Caesar should not leave his army, till Pompey had set him the example. This was a proposal, which Pompey had by no means been prepared for; his friends alledged, that his time was not yet expired, but this not satisfying the tribune, Pompey himself observed, that he had taken up his offices at the command of the senate, and that he was ready to resign them, whenever his employers thought fit: that he knew Caesar, with whose friendship and alliance he had been made happy, would not hesitate to do the same, when he knew the senate had appointed him a successor. Curio, who saw the art of Pompey, whose only aim was to have a successor actually nominated, replied, that in order to shew the sincerity of his professions, it was not enough to promise to give up his government, but at that very instant, to perform a thing he had it so easily in his power to do: he added, that both were too powerful, and that it was for the interest of the commonwealth, that they should return to their former privacy: he concluded with saying, that there was no other method left for public security, but to order both to lay down their commands, and to declare him an enemy to his country, who should disobey. Curio had made this proposal, with a certainty of its being rejected by Pompey, whom he knew to be too well acquainted with the advantages of command, and too confident of his own superiority over Caesar, to begin the submission: in fact, he judged very justly. Pompey was rendered arrogant, not only by his long good fortune, and his present honour, but also by accounts brought him continually from Caesar's army, importing, that his soldiers had no esteem for him, and that they would certainly forsake him as soon as they had croft the Alps, all which falsehoods, though merely invented to gain Pompey's favour by suiting the account to his inclinations, he readily gave credit to. Nay, to such a pitch of self security did he at last make pretensions, that when Cicero asked him what forces he had to repell Caesar, Pompey replied, that if he only stamped with his foot, an army would start up from the ground to oppose him. Thus confidence at first, and shame soon after to have been in the wrong, operated so powerfully upon him, that he did not prepare for his defence, lest he should be obliged to acknowledge himself in danger.
Curio having attained his aims in this particular, dismist the senate, as he was impowered to do by his office, but Marcellus, who was consul, and a creature of Pompey, convoked it immediately after, and then put it to the vote whether Caesar should be continued in his government. The whole assembly were immediately of opinion that he should be discontinued. He then demanded their pleasure as to Pompey's continuance in the government he enjoyed. The majority declared that it was proper to continue him. Curio then put a third question, whether it would not be most expedient to discontinue them both, to which three hundred and sixty of the senate assented, and twenty two only declared against it. Marcellus being thus frustated in his views of obtaining the sanction of the senate to continue Pompey in his government, could not contain his resentment, but rising in a rage, cried out, If you will have Caesar for your master, why have him. Upon which one of his own party asserting, in order to intimidate the senate still more, that Caesar was past the Alps, and marching with his whole army directly towards Rome, the consul immediately quitting the senate, went with his colleague forth from the city to an house where Pompey at that time resided. He there presented him with a sword, commanding him to march against Caesar, and fight in defence of the commonwealth. Pompey declared he was ready to obey, but with an air of pretended moderation added, that it was only in case more gentle expedients could not be employed.
Caesar, who was instructed in all that past by his partizans at Rome, though he was still in Gaul, was willing to give his aims all the appearance of justice. He therefore wrote to the senate several times, desiring to be continued in his government of Gaul, as Pompey had been in that of Spain, or else that he should be permitted to stand for the consulship and his absence dispensed with. He agreed to lay down his employment when Pompey should do the same. But the senate, who were devoted to his rival, rejected all his propositions, blindly confident of their own power, and relying on the assurances of Pompey. Caesar still unwilling to come to an open rupture with the state, at last was content to ask the government of Illyria, with two legions; but this also was refused him; a fatal obstinacy had seized the senate, who were willing to sacrifice all his power to encrease that of their present favourite, so that they attempted to repress his injustice by still greater of their own. Wherefore Caesar now finding all hopes of an accommodation fruitless, and conscious, if not of the goodness of his cause, at least of the goodness of his troops, began to draw them down towards the confines of Italy, and passing the Alps with his third legion, stopt at Ravenra, a city of Cisalpine Gaul, from whence he once more wrote a letter to the consuls, declaring that he was ready to resign all command in case Pompey did so too. But he added, that if all power was to be given to one only, he would endeavour to prevent so unjust a distribution, and declared that if they persisted he would shortly arrive in Rome to punish their injustice, and the wrongs of his country. The menaces contained in the last part of his letter, exasperated the whole body of the senate against him. Marcellus the consul, who as we have said, was the creature of Pompey, gave way to his rage, while Lentulus his colleague, who being of wrecked fortune, could expect to lose nothing by a civil war, openly declared, that after such an insult further deliberation was needless, and that there was now more occasion for arms than for suffrages. It was then after some opposition, decreed that Caesar should lay down his government and disband his forces within a limited time, and if he refused obedience, that he should be declared an enemy to the commonwealth. They next gave orders to the consuls, that the commonwealth would receive no damage, which was the form of investing them with absolute authority in cases of immediate danger. After this they appointed Domitius, a man of great courage and abilities, as Caesar's successor in the government of Gaul. Pompey was ordered to put himself at the head of what troops were in readiness, and all those who were under the influence either of him or the senate, prepared to take up arms at Rome.
In the mean time, they who had declared themselves most strongly in Caesar's interest, began to fear for themselves, from the absolute power granted the consuls of disposing all things at their pleasure, and of treating whom they would as enemies to the state. But particularly Curio, with the two tribunes Marcus Antonius and Longinus, supposed they had reason to be apprehensive. They accordingly fled disguised as slaves to Caesar's camp, deploring the injustice and tyranny of the senate, and making a merit of their sufferings in his cause. Caesar shewed them in the habits which they had thus assumed to his army, and seeming touched with the strongest compassion at their treatment, burst out into severe invectives against the senate, alledging their tyranny over the state, their cruelty to his friends, and their flagrant ingratitude to himself for all his past services. These cried he, pointing to the tribunes, who were in slaves habits, these are the rewards obtained by the faithful servants of their country, men whose persons are sacred by their office, and whose characters have been esteemed for their virtues, are driven from their country, obliged for safety to appear as the meanest of mankind, to find protection only in a distant province of the empire, and all for maintaining the rights of freedom, those rights which even Sylla in all the rage of slaughter durst not violate. All this he enforced with the most passionate gestures, and accompanied his words with his tears. The soldiers, as if inspired with one mind, cried out that they were prepared to follow him wherever he should lead, and were ready to die or revenge his injuries. An universal acclamation rung through the whole camp, every man prepared for a new service of danger, and forgetting the toils of ten former campaigns, went to his tent to meditate on future victory.
When the army was thus fit for his purpose, Caesar, at night-fall, sat down to table chearfully conversing with his friends on subjects of literature and philosophy, and apparently disengaged from every ambitious concern: however, after some time, rising up, he desired the company to make themselves chearful in his absence, and that he would be with them in a moment: in the mean time having ordered his chariot to be prepared he immediately set out, attended by a few friends, for Arminium, a city upon the confines of Italy, whither he had dispatched a part of his army the morning before. This journey by night, which was very fatiguing▪ he performed with great diligence, sometimes walking and sometimes on horseback, 'till at the break of day he came up with his army, which consisted of about five thousand men, near the Rubicon, a little river which separates Italy from Gaul, and which terminated the limits of his command. The Romans had ever been taught to consider this river as the sacred boundary of their domestic empire; the senate had long before made an edict, which is still to be seen engraven in the road near Rimini, by which they solemnly devoted to the infernal gods and branded with sacrilege and parricide any person who should presume to pass the Rubicon with an army, a legion, or even a single cohort: Caesar therefore when he advanced at the head of his army to the side of the river stopt short upon the bank, as if imprest with terror at the greatness of his enterprize. The dangers he was to encounter, the slaughters that were to ensue, the calamities of his native city, all presented themselves to his imagination in gloomy perspective, and struck him with remorse. He pondered for some time in fixt melancholy, looking upon the river and debating with himself whether he should venture in:
"If I pass this river, says he to one of his generals who stood by him, what miseries shall I bring upon my country! and if I now stop short I am undone."
Thus saying, and resuming all his former alacrity, he plunged in, crying out that the die was cast and all was now over: his soldiers followed him with equal promptitude, and quickly arriving at Arminium made themselves masters of the place without any resistance.
This unexpected enterprize excited the utmost terrors in Rome, every one imagining that Caesar was leading his army to lay the city in ruins. At one time were to be seen the citizens flying into the country for safety, and the inhabitants of the country coming up to seek for shelter in Rome. In this universal confusion Pompey felt all that repentance and self-condemnation which must necessarily arise from the remembrance of having advanced his rival to his present pitch of power: wherever he appeared many of his former friends were ready to tax him with his supineness, and sarcastically to reproach his ill-grounded presumption.
"Where is now, cried Favonius, a ridiculous senator of his party, the army that is to rise at your command? let us see if it will appear by stamping."
Cato reminded him of the many warnings he had given him; which however, as he was continually boding nothing but calamities, Pompey might very justly be excused from attending to. But being at length wearied with these reproaches which were offered under colour of advice, he did all that lay in his power to encourage and confirm his followers: he told them that they should not want an army, for that he would be their leader; he confest indeed that he had all along mistaken Caesar's aims, judging of them only from what they ought to be; however, if his friends were still inspired with the love of freedom, they might yet enjoy it in whatever place their necessities should happen to conduct them. He let them know that their affairs were in a very promising situation; that his two lieutenants were at the head of a considerable army in Spain, composed of veteran troops that had made the conquest of the East; besides these, there were infinite resources both in Asia and Africa, together with the succours they were sure to expect from all the kingdoms that were in alliance with Rome. This speech served, in some measure, to revive the hopes of the confederacy. The greatest part of the senate, his own private friends and dependants, together with all those who expected to make their fortunes in his cause, agreed to follow him. Thus being in no capacity of resisting Caesar at Rome, he resolved to lead his forces to Capua, where he had the two legions that commanded under Caesar in Gaul. His parting from Rome was not a little distressful to the spectators. Antient senators, respectable magistrates, and many of the flower of the young nobility, obliged thus to leave their native city defenceless to the invader, raised an universal concern in all ranks of people, who followed them some way with outcries, tears and wishes for their success.
Caesar, in the mean time, after having vainly attempted to bring Pompey to an accommodation, was resolved to pursue him into Capua before he could have time to collect his forces. However, at the very out-set, he was in some measure discouraged by the defection of Labienus, associate of all his former victories: this general, either disgusted at his command or unwilling to desolate his native country, went over to the other side; but Caesar, who was not to be intimidated by the loss of one man, whose abilities he himself was able to replace, did not seem much to regard it; wherefore sending all his money after him, he marched on to take possession of the cities that lay between him and his rival, not regarding Rome, which he knew would fall of course to the conqueror. Corfinium was the first city that attempted to stop the rapidity of his march. It was defended by Domitius, who had been appointed by the senate to succeed him in Gaul, and was garrisoned by twenty cohorts which were levied in the countries adjacent: Caesar, however, quickly invested it, and though Domitius sent frequently to Pompey, exhorting him to come and raise the siege, be was at last obliged to endeavour to escape privately. His intentions happening to be divulged, the garrison were resolved to consult their own safety by delivering him up to the besiegers. Caesar readily accepted their offers, but kept his men from immediately entering into the town. After some time Lentulus the consul, who was one of the besieged, came out to implore forgiveness for himself and the rest of his confederates, putting Caesar in mind of their ancient friendship and acknowledging the many favours he had received at his hands: to this Caesar, who would not wait the conclusion of his speech, generously replied, that he came into Italy not to injure the liberties of Rome and it's citizens, but to restore them. This humane reply being quickly carried into the city, the senators, and the knights, with their children and some officers of the garrison, came out to claim the conqueror's protection, who just glancing at their ingratitude gave them their liberty with permission to go wheresoever they should think proper. But while he dismist the leaders, he, upon this, as upon all other occasions, took care to attach the common soldiers to his own interest, sensible that he might stand in need of an army, but that while he lived his army could never stand in need of a commander.
Pompey having intelligence of what past upon this occasion immediately retreated to Brundusium, where he resolved to stand a siege to delay the enemy until the forces of the empire should be united to oppose him. Caesar, as he expected, soon arrived before the place, and having accidentally taken one of Pompey's engineers a prisoner he gave him liberty, with orders to persuade his general that it might be for the interests of both, as well as to the advantage of the empire to have an interview; but to this overture he received no return. He next attempted to block up the harbour, but in this being frustrated by the diligence of Pompey, he sent another proposal for having an interview, to which it was answered, that no propositions of that kind could be received in the absence of the consuls. Thus seeing no hopes of concluding their disagreements by treaty, he turned all his thoughts towards carrying on the war, which Pompey on his side resolved to prosecute with all imaginable vigour.
His first aim in keeping Caesar some time employed before Brundusium succeeded to his wish; he at length therefore prepared, with all imaginable caution, to abandon the town, and transport his garrison over to Dyracchium, where the consuls, who had been sent with a part of the troops before him, were levying men for the service of the empire. For this purpose, having fortified the harbour in such a manner that the enemy could not easily pursue him, he embarked his troops with the utmost silence and dispatch, leaving only a few archers and slingers on the walls, who were ordered to retreat in small boats provided for that purpose, as soon as all the heavy infantry were got on board. Caesar being apprized of their retreat by the inhabitants of the town, who were provoked at the ruin of their houses, immediately attempted to prevent the embarkation, and was actually going to lead his men over a pitfall, which Pompey had secretly placed in his way, had he not been interrupted by the townsmen, who apprized him of his danger. Thus did Pompey, with great skill and diligence, make his escape, leaving the whole kingdom of Italy at the mercy of his rival, without either a town or an army that had strength to oppose his progress.
Caesar finding he could not follow Pompey for want of shipping, resolved to go back to Rome, and take possession of the public treasures, which his opponent, by a most unaccountable over sight, had neglected taking with him. It might have been alledged, indeed, that as these treasures were considered as a sacred deposit, and only to be used in the last extremity, or in case of a Gallic invasion, it would have been wrong in Pompey to begin his operations with an act of impiety. Thus it often happens that the weaker side, through a fear of discrediting their cause by any thing irregular, ruin it by unseasonable moderation. Caesar was received at Rome with the repeated acclamations of the lower part of the citizens and by all his own party; those of the senate also who were attached to his interests assembled to congratulate his arrival, to whom he made a plausible speech, justifying his conduct and professing his aversion to the violent measures to which he had been compelled. Then, under a pretence that his cause was that of justice and of the commonwealth, he prepared to possess himself of those treasures which had been laid up for the uses of the public: but upon his coming up to the door of the treasury, Metellus, the tribune, who guarded it, refused to let him pass, alledging that the money was sacred, and that horrible imprecations had been denounced against such as touched it upon any occasion but that of a Gallic war. Caesar, however, was not to be intimidated by his superstitious remonstrances, observing that there was no occasion for money to carry on a Gallic war, as he had entirely subdued all Gaul already: the tribune then pretending that the keys were missing, Caesar ordered his attendants to break open the doors, but Metellus had still the boldness to dispute even this command, whereupon Caesar, with more than usual emotion, laying his hand upon his sword, threatened to strike him dead;
"And know, young man, cried he, that it is easier to do this than to say it."
This menace had it's effect; Metellus retired, and Caesar took out to the amount of three thousand pound weight of gold, besides an immense quantity of silver; which money was a principal means of promoting his succeeding conquests. Having thus provided for continuing the war, he departed from Rome, resolved to subdue Pompey's lieutenants, Afranius and Petreius, who had been long in Spain at the head of a veteran army.
Much had been expected by the opposite party from the army in Spain; it was composed of the choicest legions of the empire, and had been ever victorious under all its commanders▪ Caesar however, who knew the abilities of its two present generals, jocosely said as he was preparing to go thither, that he went to fight an army without a general, and upon conquering it would return to fight a general without an army. However it may be enquired why Caesar did not rather pursue Pompey directly, than thus step out of the way, as it were, into Spain, to engage his generals. He had good reasons; he was sensible that if he had overcome Pompey and driven him out of Greece, where he was then making preparations, he must probably have forced him into Spain, where of all places he dreaded most to meet him; it was therefore prudent first to destroy the army there, and then there was little to be dreaded from the protection it might afterwards afford. Accordingly having refreshed his men, previous to their setting out, he led them once more a long and fatiguing march across the Alps, through the extensive provinces of Gaul, to meet the enemy in Spain. Indeed, when I consider the amazing length of the way, and the various countries his soldiers were to pass, the mountains they had to ascend, and the forests to cut through, the various climates they were to endure, and the military duties they were to undergo, while every centinel wore seventy pounds weight of armour, that would be considered as a modern man's load, while besides this each man was obliged to carry with him ten days provision upon the point of his spear, and was allowed nothing to drink but vinegar and water on the way, when I consider, I say, the fatigues these must have undergone, and the length of their continuance, I am struck with astonishment at their invincible patience and resolution! Caesar having left one of his generals, with a part of the army, to besiege Marseilles, which refused to admit him, he proceeded with extreme diligence on his march to Spain, and to attach his men more firmly to his interests, borrowed money from all his officers, which he distributed among the soldiers. Thus engaging the one to him by his liberality, and the other by the expectation of being repaid.
The first conflict which he had with Afranius and Petreius, was rather unfavourable. It was fought near the city of Herda, and both sides claimed the honour of the victory. Nevertheless, it appeared soon after that Caesar was reduced to great streights for want of provisions, which the overflowing of the river and the position of the enemy entirely cut off. However, nothing was able to subdue his dilligence and activity, for causing slight boats covered with leather to be made, and causing a division of the enemy to another part, he carried his boats in waggons twenty miles distant from the camp, launched them upon the broadest part of the river, and with great dexterity caused his legions to pass over. Having thus gained new supplies of provisions and men, he made a feint as if he intended to distress the enemy in turn, by cutting off their supplies, and for this purpose be began to throw up entrenchments and cut ditches, as if to turn the course of the river into a different channel. These preparations so intimidated the enemy, that they resolved to decamp by night: but Caesar, who had intimation of their design by his spies, pursued them with a small part of his army, and forcing them to ford the river, before they had time to rally on the other side, appeared with the main body of his forces to receive them. Thus hemmed in on both sides, they could neither get forward nor return to their former camp. By these means he reduced them to such extremity of hunger and drought, that they were obliged to yield at discretion. But clemency was his favourite virtue, he dismissed them all with the kindest professions, and sent them home to Rome loaden with shame and obligations to publish his virtues, and confirm the affections of his adherents. Thus, in the space of about forty days, he became master of all Spain; and then departing to his army at Marseilles, obliged that city to surrender at discretion. He pardoned the inhabitants, as he said, chiefly upon account of their name and antiquity; and leaving two legions in that garrison, returned again victorious to Rome. The citizens upon this occasion received him with fresh demonstrations of joy, they created him dictator and consul; but the first of these offices he laid down after he had held it but eleven days. His design in accepting it was probably to shew the people with what readiness he could resign it.
While Caesar was thus employed, Pompey was equally active in making preparations in Epirus and Greece to oppose him. All the monarchs of the East had declared in his favour, and sent very large supplies. He was master of nine effective Italian legions, and had a fleet of five hundred large ships under the conduct of Bibulus, an active and experienced commander. Added to these, he was supplied with large sums of money and all the necessaries for an army, from the tributary provinces round him. He had attacked Dolabella and Anthony, who commanded for Caesar in that part of the empire, with such success, that the former was obliged to fly and the latter was taken prisoner. Crowds of the most distinguished citizens and nobles from Rome came every day to join him. He had at one time above two hundred senators in his camp▪ among whom were Cicero and Cato, whose approbation of his cause was equivalent to an army. These assisted him with their countenance and advice, and by their influence it was determined that no Roman citizen should be put to death out of battle, and that no town subject to the Roman empire should be plundered by the conquerors. All these advantages both of strength and council drew the wishes of mankind to his cause, and raised an opposition that threatened Caesar with speedy destruction.
Notwithstanding such preparations against him, Caesar proceeded with his usual vigour, and with a courage that to ordinary capacities might seem to be rashness. He now resolved to face his rival in the East, and led his forces to Brundusium, a sea port town of Italy, in order to transport them into Greece: but he wanted a fleet numerous enough to carry the whole at once, and it appeared dangerous to weaken his army by dividing it: besides, it was now in the midst of winter, and very difficult for any vessels, much more for so slight a fleet as his was, to keep the sea; added to this, all the ports and the shores were filled with the numerous navy of his rival, conducted by a very vigilant commander. However, these considerations could not over-rule his desire to pursue the war with his usual unremitting assiduity; wherefore he shipped off five of his twelve legions, which amounted to no more than twenty thousand foot and six thousand horse, and weighing anchor fortunately steered through the midst of his enemies, timing it so well that he made his passage in one day. He landed at a place called Pharsalus, not daring to venture into any known port, which he was apprehensive might be possessed by the enemy. When he saw his troops safely debarked, he sent back the fleet to bring over the rest of his forces; but thirty of his ships, in their return, fell into the hands of Pompey's admiral, who set them all on fire, destroying mariners and all, in order to intimidate the rest by this cruel example. In the mean time he was employed in taking possession of such towns as had declared for his enemy, and in cutting off provisions from the fleet, which coasted along that part of the country. But still convinced that the proper time for making proposals for a peace was after gaining an advantage, he sent one Rufus, whom he had taken prisoner, to effect an accommodation with Pompey, offering to refer all to the senate and people of Rome; but Pompey once more rejected the overture, holding the people of Rome too much in Caesar's interests to be relied on.
He was raising supplies in Macedonia when first informed of Caesar's landing upon the coasts of Epirus: he now, therefore, resolved immediately to march to Dyracchium, in order to cover that place from Caesar's attempts, as all his ammunition and provisions were deposited there. Upon his arrival at that city he began to perceive that many of his new-raised troops were very little to be depended upon; their slowness in obeying command, and their numerous desertions giving him very disagreeable apprehensions. In consequence of this, he obliged them to take an oath, that they would never abandon their general, but follow him through all his fortunes, and being thus secure of their attachment, he resolved to harrass out his rival by protracting the war, as his resources were more numerous than those of Caesar. The first place that both armies came in sight of each other, was on the opposite banks of the river Apsus, and as both were commanded by the two greatest generals then in the world, the one renowned for his conquest of the East, the other celebrated for his victories over the Western parts of the empire, a battle was eagerly desired by the soldiers on either side. But neither general was willing to hazard it upon this occasion; Pompey could not rely upon his new levies, and Caesar would not venture an engagement, till he was joined by the the rest of his forces. Accordingly both armies remained in this disposition for some days, looking upon each other with all the anxiety of suspense, yet each with equal confidence of success and mutual resolution.
Caesar had now waited some time with extreme impatience for the coming up of the remainder of his army, the whole of his hopes depended upon that reinforcement, and he had written and sent several times to his generals to use dispatch. At last, despairing of their punctuality, and desirous of being freed from the anxiety of expectation, he resolved upon an attempt, that nothing but the extraordinary confidence he had in his good fortune could excuse. He disguised himself in the habit of a slave, and with all imaginable secrecy, went on board a fisherman's bark at the mouth of the river Apsus, with a design to pass over to Brundusium, where the rest of his forces lay, and to conduct them over in person. He accordingly rowed off in the beginning of the night, and was got a considerable way to sea, when the wind all of a sudden changed against him: the sea now rose in billows of formidable height, and the storm began to encrease with much violence. The fisherman, who had rowed all night with great labour, was often for returning, but was dissuaded by his passenger; but at length, when far advanced on the intended voyage, he found himself unable to proceed, and yet too distant from land to hope for making good his return: in this interval of despondence he was going to give up the oar, and commit himself to the mercy of the waves, when Caesar at last discovering himself, commanded him to row boldly; Fear nothing, cried he, you carry Caesar and his fortune. Encouraged by the presence of so great a man, the fisherman made fresh endeavours, and got out to sea, but the storm encreasing still against them, he was obliged to make for land, which was effected not without great difficulty. As soon as he was on shore, Caesar's soldiers, who had for some time missed their general, and knew not what was become of him, came joyfully round him, congratulating his escape, and kindly upbraiding his attempt, in so far distrusting their courage and affection, as to seek out new forces, when they were sure without any aid to conquer. His excuses were not less tender than their remonstrances, but the joy of both was soon after still heightened, by an information of the landing of the troops he had long expected at Appollonia, from whence they were approaching under the conduct of Anthony and Calenus, to join him; he therefore decamped in order to meet them, and prevent, if possible, Pompey with his army from engaging them on their march, as he lay on that side of the river, where the succours had been obliged to come on shore. This diligence was not less successful than necessary, for Pompey had actually made some motions to anticipate their junction, and had laid an ambuscade for Anthony, which failing,
e was obliged to retreat, under an apprehension of being hemmed in between the two armies, so that the junction was effected the same day.
Pompey being compelled to retreat, led his forces to Asparagus nigh Dyracchium, where he was sure of being supplied with every thing necessary for his army, by the numerous fleets which he employed along the coasts of Epirus; there he pitched his camp upon a tongue of land (as mariners express it) that jutted into the sea, where also was a small shelter for ships, where few winds could annoy them: in this place being most advantageously situated, he immediately began to entrench his camp, which Caesar perceiving, and finding that he was not likely soon to quit so advantageous a post, began to entrench also behind him, causing magazines of corn to be made in all parts not already wasted by the enemy's forces. Yet, notwithstanding all his care, provisions began to be very scarce in Caesar's army: his men were obliged to make use of beans and barley, and a root called Chara, which they mingled with milk; but they had been long used to greater hardships than these, so that they bore all with their accustomed patience, remembering what great honours they had often gained, after a course of such miseries as these. The inconveniencies that were like to follow, however, put Caesar upon a new design. All beyond Pompey's camp, towards the land side, was hilly and steep, wherefore Caesar built redoubts upon the hills, stretching round from shore to shore, and then caused lines of communication to be drawn from hill to hill, by which he blocked up the camp of the enemy. He hoped by this blockade, to force the enemy to a battle, which he ardently desired, and which the other declined with equal industry. Not indeed, but Pompey was continually and earnestly sollicited by his officers and the senators attending his camp, to hazard a battle; but he knew too well the danger of such an attempt, and accordingly thought only of harrassing out the enemy by perseverance. Thus both sides continued for some time employed in designs and stratagems, the one to annoy and the other to defend. Caesar's men daily carried on their works to straiten the enemy: those of Pompey did the same to enlarge themselves, having the advantage of numbers, and though they declined coming to a battle, yet they severely galled the enemy by their slingers and archers. Caesar, however, was indefatigable, he caused blinds or mantelets to be made of skins of beasts to cover his men while at work, he cut off all the water that supplied the enemy's camp, and forage from the horses, so that there remained no more subsistance for them. In this situation, Pompey at last resolved to break through his lines, and gain some other part of the country more convenient for encampment. Accordingly, having informed himself of the condition of Caesar's fortifications from some deserters who came over to him, he ordered his light infantry and archers on board his ships, with directions to attack Caesar's entrenchments by sea, where they were least defended. This was done with such effect, that all the centurions of Caesar's first cohort were cut off except one, and though Caesar and his officers used their utmost endeavours to hinder Pompey's designs, yet by means of reiterated attempts, he at last effected his purpose of extricating his army from his former camp, and of encamping in another place by the sea, where he had the conveniency of forage and shipping also. Caesar being thus frustrated in his views of blocking up the enemy, and perceiving the loss he had sustained, resolved at last to force Pompey to a battle, though upon disadvantageous terms. The engagement began by attempting to cut off a legion of the enemy which was posted in a wood, and this brought on a general battle. The conflict was for some time carried on with great ardour, and with equal fortune, but Caesar's army being intangled in the entrenchments of the old camps lately abandoned, began to fall into disorder, upon which, Pompey pressing his advantage, they at last fled with great precipitation. Great numbers perished in the trenches and on the banks of the river, pressed to death by their fellows. Pompey pursued his successes to the very camp of Caesar, and now was the crisis of Caesar's fate, it only depended upon the resolution and perseverance of Pompey's men to attack his entrenchments, and utterly destroy his whole army; but his usual good fortune prevailed; Pompey, either surprized with the suddenness of his victory, or fearful of an ambuscade, withdrew his troops into his own camp, and thus lost the empire of the world. However, his generals and attendants looked upon his present success as a decisive determination of the war. Not thinking of future engagements and dangers, they carried themselves as undoubted conquerors, and adding cruelty to their confidence, put all their prisoners to the sword. Caesar, however, was not to be intimidated by a single blow, he found that hitherto his attempts to force Pompey to engage him upon equal terms, were ineffectual, he therefore resolved to appear as if willing to change the whole course of the war, and to protract it in his turn: wherefore, calling the army together, he addressed them with his usual calmness and intrepidity, in the following manner,
"We have no reason, my fellow soldiers, to be dejected at our late miscarriage; the loss of one battle, after such numbers that have been gained, should rather awaken out caution than depress our resolution: let us remember the long course of victories which have been gained by us in Gaul, Britain, Italy and Spain, and then let us consider how many greater dangers we have escaped, which have only served to encrease the pleasure of succeeding victory. If after all these renowned exploits and glorious successes, one little disorder, one error of inadvertancy, or indeed of destiny itself, has deprived us of our just reward, yet we have still sufficient force to ensure it for the future; and though we should be deprived of every resource, yet the brave have one still left to overcome every danger, namely, to despise it."
After thus encouraging his men, and degrading some of his subaltern officers who were remiss in their duty, he prepared to lead his forces from their camp, and to make his retreat to Appollonia, where he intended to refresh and recruit his army. Having therefore caused his baggage to go on before, he marched after at the head of his soldiers, and though pursued by Pompey, yet having the advantage of setting off eight hours before him, he effected his intent.
In the mean time, Domitius, one of his lieutenants, was in Macedonia with three legions, and in danger of being surprized by the superior forces of the enemy; he resolved therefore to join him with all expedition, and after having refreshed his army, set forward with the utmost dispatch. Pompey was in pretty much the same circumstances of apprehension, for Scipio, one of his lieutenants, who was in Thessaly, at the head of the Syrian legion; and he was fearful, lest Caesar's march was intended to cut off this body of troops before their junction. Thus each general marched with all the diligence possible, both to secure their friends, and surprize their enemies. Caesar's dispatch was most successful; he was joined by Domitius upon the frontiers of Thessaly, and thus, with all his forces united into one body, he marched directly to Gomphi, a town that lies farther within that province. But the news of his defeat at Dyracchium had reached this place before him; the inhabitants therefore, who had before promised him obedience▪ now changed their minds, and with a degree of baseness, equal to their imprudence, shut their gates against him. Caesar was not to be injured with impunity, wherefore, having represented to his soldiers the great advantage of forcing a place so very rich, he ordered the machines for scaling to be got ready, and causing an assault to be made, proceeded with such vigour, that notwithstanding the great height of the walls, the town was taken in a few hours time. Caesar left it to be plundered, and without delaying his march, went forward to Metropolis, another town of the same province, which yielded at his approach; by this means, he soon became possessed of all Thessaly, except Larissa, which was garrisoned by Scipio with his legion, who commanded for Pompey.
During this interval, Pompey's officers, being grown insupportably vain upon their late victory, were continually soliciting their commander to come to a battle: every delay became insupportable to them; they presumed to assert, that he was willing to make the most of his command, and to keep the numerous body of senators and nobles that followed his fortunes, still in subjection: confident of victory, they divided all the places in the government among each other, and portioned out the lands of those, whom in imagination they had already vanquished, amongst each other. Nor did revenge less employ their thoughts, than ambition or avarice: this was not confined to such only as had taken up arms against them, but to all those who continued neuter, and had yet sided with neither party. The proscription was actually drawn up, not for the condemnation of individuals, but of whole ranks of the enemy: it was even proposed, that all the senators in Pompey's army should be appointed judges over such as had either actually opposed, or by their neutrality, had failed to assist their party. Pompey being thus surrounded by men of weak heads and eager expectations, and incessantly teized with importunities to engage, found himself too weak to oppose: he resolved therefore at last, to renounce his own judgment, in compliance with those about him, and to give up all schemes of prudence for those dictated by avarice and passion. Wherefore, advancing into Thessaly, within a few days after the taking of Gomphi, he drew down upon the plains of Pharsalia, where he was joined by Scipio his lieutenant, with the troops under his command. Here he awaited the coming up of Caesar, resolved upon engaging, and upon deciding the fate of kingdoms at a single battle.
Caesar had employed all his art for some time in sounding the inclinations of his men, and providing for their safety in case of miscarriage, but at length, finding them resolute and vigorous, he caused them to advance towards the plains of Pharsalia, where Pompey was now encamped. The approach of these two great armies, composed of the best and bravest troops in the world, together with the greatness of the prize for which they contended, filled all minds with anxiety, though with different expectations. Pompey's army, being most numerous, turned all their thoughts to the enjoyment of the victory; Caesar's, with better aims, considered only the means of obtaining it: Pompey's army depended upon their numbers, and their many generals; Caesar's, upon their own discipline, and the conduct of their single commander: Pompey's partizans hoped much from the justice of their cause; Caesar's alledged the frequent proposals which they had made for peace without effect: thus the views, hopes and motives of both seemed different, but their hatred and ambition were the same. Caesar, who was ever foremost in offering battle, led out his army in array to meet the enemy; but Pompey, either suspecting his troops, or dreading the event, kept his advantageous situation for some time: he drew indeed sometimes out of his camp, but always kept himself under his trenches, at the foot of the hill near which he was posted. Caesar being unwilling to attack him at a disadvantage, resolved to decamp the next day, hoping to harrass out his antagonist, who was not a match for him in sustaining the fatigues of duty; and in expectation, that as the enemy would not fail following him, he might find some happier opportunity of coming to an engagement. Accordingly, the order for marching was given, and the tents struck, when word was brought him, that Pompey's army had quitted their entrenchments, and had advanced further into the plain than usual, so that he might engage them at less disadvantage. This was the juncture that Caesar had so long wished for in vain; ever since he had landed in Greece, he had been employed in endeavours to draw on a general engagement and feared nothing so much as to protract the war: whereupon he now caused his troops that were upon their march to halt, and with a countenance of joy informed them that the happy time was at last come, which they had so long wished for, and which was to crown their glory and terminate their fatigues. After which he drew up his troops in order, and advanced towards the place of battle. His forces did not amount to above half those of Pompey; the army of the one amounting to above forty-five thousand foot, and seven thousand horse; that of the other not exceeding twenty-two thousand foot, and about a thousand horse. This disproportion, particularly in the cavalry, had filled Caesar with apprehensions; wherefore he had some days before picked out the strongest and nimblest of his foot-soldiers, and accustomed them to fight between the ranks of his cavalry. By their assistance his thousand horse was a match for Pompey's seven thousand, and had actually got the better in a skirmish that happened between them, some days before.
Pompey, on the other hand, had strong expectations of success; he boasted in council, that he could put Caesar's legions to flight, without striking a single blow, presuming, that as soon as the armies formed, his cavalry, on which he placed his greatest expectations, would out-flank and surround the enemy. Labienus commended this scheme of Pompey, alledging also that the present troops of which Caesar's army was composed were but the shadow of those old legions that had fought in Britain and Gaul; that all the veterans were worn out, and had been replaced by new levies made in a hurry in Cisalpine Gaul. To encrease the confidence of the army still more, he took an oath, which the rest followed him in, never to return to the camp but with victory. In this disposition, and under these advantageous circumstances, Pompey led his troops to battle.
Pompey's order of battle was good and well judged. In the centre and on the two flanks he placed all his veterans, and distributed his newraised troops between the wings and the main body. The Syrian legions were placed in the centre under the command of Scipio; the Spaniards, on whom he greatly relied, were put on the right under Domitius Aenobarbus; and on the left were stationed the two legions which Caesar had restored in the beginning of the war, led on by Pompey himself; because from thence he intended to make the attack which was to gain the day; and for the same reason he had there assembled all his horse, slingers and archers, of which his right wing had no need, being covered by the river Enipeus. Caesar likewise divided his army into three bodies under three commanders; Domitius Calvinus being placed in the centre and Mark Anthony on the left, while he himself led on the right wing, which was to oppose the left commanded by Pompey. It is remarkable enough that Pompey chose to put himself at the head of those troops which were disciplined and instructed by Caesar: an incontestible proof how much he valued them above any of the rest of his army. Caesar, on the contrary, placed himself at the head of his tenth legion that had owed all its merit and fame to his own training. As he observed the enemy's numerous cavalry to be all drawn to one spot, he guess'd at Pompey's intention; to obviate which he made a draught of six cohorts from his rear line, and forming them into a separate body, concealed them behind his right wing, with instructions not to throw their javelins on the approach of Pompey's horse, as was customary, but to keep them in their hands and push them directly in the faces and the eyes of the horsemen, who being composed of the younger part of the Roman nobility, valued themselves much upon their beauty, and dreaded a scar in the face more than a wound in the body. He lastly placed the little cavalry he had so as to cover the right of the tenth legion, ordering his third line not to march 'till they had received the signal from him. And now the fate of the vast empire of Rome was to be decided by the greatest generals, the bravest officers, and the most expert troops that mankind had ever seen 'till that hour. Each private man in both armies was almost capable of performing the duty of a commander, and seemed inspired with a desire to conquer or die. As the armies approached, the two generals went from rank to rank encouraging their men, warning their hopes and lessening their apprehensions. Pompey represented to his men that the glorious occasion which they had long besought him to grant was now before them;
"And indeed, cried he, what advantages could you wish over an enemy that you are not now possessed of? Your numbers, your vigour, a late victory, all assure a speedy and an easy conquest of those harrassed and broken troops, composed of men worn out with age and imprest with the terrors of a recent defeat: but there is still a stronger bulwark for our protection than the superiority of our strength, the justice of our cause. You are engaged in the defence of liberty and of your country; you are supported by its laws, and followed by its magistrates; you have the world spectators of your conduct, and wishing you success: on the contrary, he whom you oppose is a robber and oppressor of his country, and almost most already sunk with the consciousness of his crimes, as well as the bad success of his arms. Shew then on this occasion all that ardour and detestation of tyranny that should animate Romans, and do justice to mankind."
Caesar, on his side, went among his men with that steady serenity for which he was so much admired in the midst of danger. He insisted on nothing so strongly to his soldiers as his frequent and unsuccessful endeavours for peace. He talked with terror of the blood he was going to shed, and pleaded only the necessity that urged him to it. He deplored the many brave men that were to fall on both sides, and the wounds of his country whoever should be victorious. His soldiers answered his speech with looks of ardour and impatience, which observing he gave the signal to begin. The word on Pompey's side was, Hercules the invincible: that on Caesar's, Venus the victorious. There was only so much space between both armies as to give room for fighting; wherefore Pompey ordered his men to receive the first shock without moving out of their places, expecting the enemies ranks to be put into disorder by their motion. Caesar's soldiers were now rushing on with their usual impetuosity, when perceiving the enemy motionless, they all stopt short, as if by general consent, and halted in the midst of their career. A terrible pause ensued, in which both armies continued to gaze upon each other with mutual terror and dreadful serenity: at length, Caesar's men having taken breath, ran furiously upon the enemy, first discharging their javelins and then drawing their swords. The same method was observed by Pompey's troops, who as vigorously sustained the attack. His cavalry also were ordered to charge at the very onset, which, with the multitude of archers and slingers, soon obliged Caesar's men to give ground, and get themselves, as he had foreseen, upon the flank of his army: whereupon Caesar immediately ordered the six cohorts that were placed as a reinforcement to advance, and repeated his orders to strike at the enemies faces. This had it's desired effect; the cavalry, that were but just now sure of victory, received an immediate check: the unusual method of fighting pursued by the cohorts, their aiming entirely at the visages of the assailants, and the horrible disfiguring wounds they made, all contributed to intimidate them so much, that, instead of defending their persons, their only endeavour was to save their faces. A total route ensued of their whole body, which fled in great disorder to the neighbouring mountains, while the archers and slingers, who were thus abandoned, were cut to pieces. Caesar now commanded the cohorts to pursue their success, and advancing, charged Pompey's troops upon the flank: this charge the enemy withstood for some time with great bravery 'till he brought up his third line, which had not yet engaged. Pompey's infantry being thus doubly attacked, in front by fresh troops and in rear by the victorious cohorts, could no longer resist, but fled to their camp. The flight began among the strangers, though Pompey's right wing still valiantly maintained their ground. Caesar, however, being convinced that the victory was certain, with his usual clemency, cried out to pursue the strangers, but to spare the Romans; upon which they all laid down their arms and received quarter. The greatest slaughter was among the auxiliaries, who fled on all quarters, but principally went for safety to the camp. The battle had now lasted from the break of day 'till noon, the weather being extremely hot; notwithstanding, the conquerors did not remit their ardour, being encouraged by the example of their general, who thought his victory not complete till he was master of the enemy's camp. Accordingly, marching on foot at their head, he called upon them to follow and strike the decisive blow. The cohorts, which were left to defend the camp, for some time made a formidable resistance; particularly a great number of Thracians and other barbarians, who were appointed for it's defence; but nothing could resist the ardour of Caesar's victorious army, they were at last driven from their trenches, and all fled to the mountains not far off.
Caesar seeing the field and camp strewed with his fallen countrymen, was strongly affected at so melancholy a prospect, and could not help crying out to one that stood near him,
"They would have it so."
Upon entering the enemies camp, every object presented fresh instances of the blind presumption and madness of his adversaries: on all sides were to be seen tents adorned with ivy and branches of myrtle, couches covered with purple, and side-boards loaded with plate. Every thing gave proofs of the highest luxury, and seemed rather the preparative for a banquet, the rejoicings for a victory, than the dispositions for a battle. A camp so richly furnished, might have been able to engage the attention of any troops but Caesar's, there was still something to be done, and he would not permit them to pursue any other object than their enemies, till they were entirely subdued. A considerable body of these having retired to the adjacent mountains, he prevailed on his soldiers to join him in the pursuit, in order to oblige these to surrender: he began by inclosing them with a line drawn at the foot of the mountain, but they quickly abandoned a post which was not tenable for want of water, and endeavoured to reach the city of Larissa. Caesar led a part of his army by a shorter way, and intercepted their retreat, drawing up in order of battle between them and the city. However, these unhappy fugitives once more found protection from a mountain, at the foot of which a rivulet ran which supplied them with water. Now night approaching, Caesar's men were almost spent, and ready to faint with their incessant toil since morning, yet still he prevailed upon them once more to renew their labours, and to cut off the rivulet that supplied them. The fugitives, thus deprived of all hopes of succour or subsistence, sent deputies to the conqueror, offering to surrender at discretion: during this interval of negotiation, a few senators that were among them, took the advantage of the night to escape, and the rest next morning gave up their arms, and experienced the conqueror's clemency. In fact, he addressed them with great gentleness, and forbade his soldiers to offer them any violence, or to take any thing from them. Thus Caesar by his conduct gained the most complete victory that had ever been obtained, and by his great clemency after the battle, seemed to have deserved it. His loss amounted to but two hundred men, that of Pompey to fifteen thousand, as well Romans as auxiliaries: twenty-four thousand men surrendered themselves prisoners war, and the greatest part of these entered into Caesar's army, and were incorporated with the rest of his forces. As to the senators and Roman knights who fell into his hands, he generously gave them liberty to retire wherever they thought proper: and as for the letters which Pompey had received from several persons who wished to be thought neutral, he burnt them all without reading them, as Pompey had done upon a former occasion. Thus having performed all the duties of a general and a statesman, he sent for the legions which had passed the night in the camp, to relieve those which had accompanied him in the pursuit, and being determined to follow Pompey, began his march, and arrived the same day at Larissa.
As for Pompey, who had formerly shewn such instances of courage and conduct, when he saw his cavalry routed, on which he had placed his sole dependance, he absolutely lost his reason. Instead of thinking how to remedy this disorder by rallying such troops as fled, or by opposing fresh troops to stop the progress of the conquerors, being totally amazed by this first blow, he returned to the camp, and in his tent, waited the issue of an event, which it was his duty to direct, not to follow: there he remained for some moments without speaking, till being told, that the camp was attacked,
"What, says he, are we pursued to our very entrenchments?"
and immediately quitting his armour for a habit more suited to his circumstances, he fled away on horseback to Larissa, from whence, perceiving he was not pursued, he slackened his pace, giving way to all the agonizing reflections which his deplorable situation must naturally suggest. In this melancholy manner he passed along the vale of Tempe, and pursuing the course of the river Peneus, at last arrived at a fisherman's hut, in which he passed the night. From thence he went on board a little bark, and keeping along the sea-shore, he descryed a ship of some burthen, which seemed preparing to sail, in which he embarked, the master of the vessel still paying him the homage which was due to his former station. From the mouth of the river Peneus, he sailed to Amphipolis, where finding his affairs desperate, he steered to Lesbos, to take in his wife Cornelia, whom he had left there, at a distance from the dangers and hurry of the war. She who had long flattered herself with the hopes of victory, felt the reverse of her fortune in an agony of distress: she was desired by the messenger, whose tears, more than words, proclaimed the greatness of her misfortunes, to dispatch if she expected to see Pompey, with but one ship, and even that not his own: her grief, which before was violent, became then insupportable; she fainted away, and lay a considerable time without any signs of life. At length, recovering herself, and reflecting it was now no time for vain lamentations, she ran quite through the city, to the sea-side. Pompey received her in his arms, without speaking a word, and for some time, supported her in his arms in silent despair. After a pause of long continuance, they found words for their distress; Cornelia imputed to herself a part of the miseries that were come upon them, and instanced many former misfortunes of her life. Pompey endeavoured to comfort her, by instancing the uncertainty of human affairs, and from his present unexpected wretchedness, teaching her to hope for as unexpected turns of good fortune. In the mean time, the people of the island, who had great obligations to Pompey, gathered round them, joining in their grief, and inviting them into their city. Pompey however declined their invitation, and even advised them to submit to the conqueror.
"Be under no apprehenhensions, cried he, Caesar may be my enemy, but still let me acknowledge his moderation and humanity."
Cratippus, the Greek philosopher, also came to pay his respects. Pompey, as is but too frequent with persons under misfortunes, complained to him of providence. Cratippus, who was a man of genius and understood the world, declined entering deeply into the argument, rather satisfied with supplying new motives to hope, than combating the present impiety of his despair.
Having taken in Cornelia, he now continued his course, steering to the south-east, and stopping no longer than was necessary to take in provisions at the ports that occurred in his passage. He came before Rhodes, but the people of this city were changed with his fortunes, against him. From thence he went to Attilia, where he was joined by some soldiers and ships of war. However, these were nothing against the power of his rival, from the activity of whose pursuit he was in continual apprehensions. His forces were too much ruined and dispersed to be ever collected once more; his only hopes therefore lay in the assistance of the kings who were in his alliance, and from these only he could expect security and protection. He was himself inclined to retire to the Parthians, others proposed Juba, king of Numidia, but he was at last prevailed upon to apply to Ptolemy, king of Egypt, to whose father Pompey had been a considerable benefactor. Accordingly, he lest Cilicia where he then was, and steering for the kingdom of Egypt, came in view of the coasts of that country, and sent to the young king, to implore protection and safety. Ptolemy, who was as yet a minor, had not the government in his own hands, but he and his kingdom were under the protection of Photinus, an eunuch, and Theodotus, a master of the art of speaking. Before these therefore, Pompey's request was argued: before such mean and mercenary persons was to be determined the fate of one, who, but a few days before, had given law to kingdoms. The opinions of the council were divided, gratitude and pity inclined some to receive him, whilst others, more obdurate or more timorous, were for denying him entrance into the kingdom. At length, Theodotus the rhetorician, as if willing to display his eloquence, maintained, that both proposals were equally dangerous: that to admit him, was making Pompey their master, and drawing on them Caesar's resentment; and by not receiving him, they offended the one' without obliging the other: that therefore, the only expedient left, was to give him leave to land, and then to kill him: this would at once oblige Caesar, and rid them of all apprehensions from Pompey's resentment: for, concluded he, with a vulgar and malicious joke, dead dogs can never bite. This advice prevailing in a council composed of the slaves of an effeminate and luxurious court, Achillas, commander of the forces, and Septimius, by birth a Roman, and who had formerly been a centurion in Pompey's army, were appointed to carry it into execution. Accordingly, attended by three or four more, they went into a little bark, and rowed off from land towards Pompey's ship, that lay off about a mile from the shore. When Pompey and his friends saw the boat moving off from shore, they began to wonder at the meanness of the preparations to receive him, and some even ventured to suspect the intentions of the Egyptian court. But before any thing could be determined, Achillas was come up to the ship's side, and in the Greek language welcomed him to Egypt, and invited him into the boat, alledging, that the shallows prevented larger vessels from coming off to receive him. Pompey, after having taken leave of Cornelia, who wept at his departure, and having repeated two verses of Sophocles, signifying, that he who trusts his freedom to a tyrant, from that moment becomes a slave, gave his hand to Achillas, and stept into the bark, with only two attendants of his own. They had now rowed from the ship a good way, and as during that time they all kept a profound silence, Pompey, willing to begin the discourse, accosted Septimius, whose face he recollected.
"Methinks, friend, cried he, that you and I were once fellow soldiers together."
Septimius gave only a nod with his head, without uttering a word, or instancing the least civility. Pompey therefore took out a paper, on which he had minuted a speech he intended to make the king, and began reading it. In this manner they approached the shore, and Cornelia, whose concern had never suffered her to lose sight of her husband, began to conceive hopes, when she perceived the people on the strand crowding down along the coasts, as if willing to receive him: but her hopes were soon destroyed, for that instant, as Pompey rose, supporting himself upon his freedman's arm, Septimius stabbed him in the back, and was instantly seconded by Achillas. Pompey perceiving his death inevitable, only disposed himself to meet it with decency, and covering his face with his robe, without speaking a word, with a sigh, resigned himself to his fate. At this horrid sight, Cornelia shrieked so loud as to be heard to the shore, but the danger she herself was in did not allow the mariners time to look on, they immediately set sail, and the wind proving favourable, fortunately they escaped the pursuit of the Egyptian gallies. In the mean time, Pompey's murderers having cut off his head, caused it to be embalmed, the better to preserve its features, designing it for a present to Caesar. The body was thrown naked on the strand, and exposed to the view of all whose curiosity led them that way. However, his faithful freedman Philip still kept near it, and when the crowd was dispersed, he washed it in the sea, and looking round for materials to burn it, he perceived the wrecks of a fishing boat, of which he composed a pile. While he was thus piously employed, he was accosted by an old Roman soldier, who had served under Pompey in his youth.
"Who art thou, said he, that art making these humble preparations for Pompey's funeral?"
Philip having answered, that he was one of his freedmen,
"Alas, replied the soldier, permit me to share in this honour also: among all the miseries of my exile, it will be my last sad comfort, that I have been able to assist at the funeral of my old commander, and touch the body of the bravest general that ever Rome produced."
After this, they both joined in giving the corse the last rites, and collecting his ashes, buried them under a little rising earth, scraped together with their hands, over which was afterwards placed the following inscription:
He whose merits deserved a temple, can now scarce find a tomb.
Such was the end, and such the funeral of Pompey the Great, a man who had many opportunities of enslaving his country, but yet rejected them all. He was fonder of glory than of power, of praise rather than command, and was more vain than ambitious. His talents in war were every way superior to all the rest of his cotemporaries, except Caesar; it was therefore
peculiar misfortune to contend with a man, in whose presence, all other military merit lost
lustre. Whether his aims during the last war were more just than Caesar's, must for ever remain doubtful; certain it is, that he frequently rejected all offers of accommodation, and began to talk of punishment, before he had any pretensions to power. But whatever might have been his intentions, in case of victory, they could not have been executed with more moderation than those of Caesar. The corruptions of the state were too great to admit of any other cure but that of an absolute government, and it was not possible that power could have fallen into better hands than those of the conqueror. From Pompey's death therefore, we may date the total extinction of the republic. From this period the senate was dispossessed of all its power, and Rome, from henceforward, was never without a master.
INDEX.
A
AEDILES CURULE, when first created, 193.
AEMILIUS PAULUS, sent with Varro against Hannibal, 268. Slain at Cannae, 272.
AENEAS, arrives in Italy, 1. Marries Lavinia, slays Turnus, and builds Lavinium, 2. Is vanquished by Mezentius, and slain, ib.
AEQUI, defeated by Q Cincinnatus, who takes their city, 128. They with the Volsci make incursions and advance within ten miles of Rome, excited by the intestine divisions of the people, 140. Subdued by the Romans, 197.
AGRARIAN LAW, who the first proposer of it, 110. Violent contests between the senate and commons for its establishment, 130.
AGRIGENTUM, taken from the Romans by the Carthaginian general, 244.
AMULIUS, murders his brother Numitor's sons, and makes his daughter Rhea Silvia a vestal virgin, 3.
ANCUS MARTIUS, elected king of Rome, 31. His institutions, conquests, and death, 32, 33.
ANTIOCHUS, war declared against him by the Romans, 297. Is defeated by Scipio, brother of Africanus▪ 298, and makes peace with the Romans upon their own terms, 299.
APPIUS CLAUDIUS, his hatred of the people occasions great disturbances, 117. Appointed general against the Volscians, 119. His severity, 120. His death, ib.
APPIUS, one of the decemviri, falls in love with Virginia, 145. His intrigue to get possession of her, 146. Kills himself in prison, 153.
APPIUS CLAUDIUS, His speech dissuading from a peace with Pyrrhus, 220.
ARCHIMEDES, retards the fate of Syracuse by his machines, 280. Is slain by a Roman soldier, 281.
ASCANIUS, succeeds his father Aeneas, 2.
ASDRUBAL, sent to reinforce Hannibal is cut off with his whole army, 279.
AVENTINE, Mount, granted by the Senate to the people to build on, 129.
B
BRENNUS, with an army of Gauls enters Etruria, 174. Marches to Rome. 175. Besieges the Capitol, 179. Is encountered by Camillus and entirely defeated, 183.
BRUTUS, JUNIUS, declares his resolution to revenge Lucretia, 56. Obtains a decree of the Senate for the banishment of Tarquin, 58. Proclaimed deliverer of the people, 59. Created consul, 61. Sentences his two sons to death for attempting to restore Tarquin, 63. Slain in combat by Aruns, son of Tarquin, 65.
BURIAL, on what occasion changed into burning by the Romans, 382, 383.
C
CAMILLUS, M. FURIUS, created dictator to conclude the war with the Veii, 168, whose city he takes, 169. Created a Military Tribune and sent against the Falisci, 171. Sends back the school-master with ignominy who had offer'd to betray the children under his care to him, 172. Is again chosen Dictator, 180 Encounters and routs the Gauls, 183. Defeats the Volsci, 187. Made dictator again to oppose another invasion of the Gauls, 191, whom he defeats, ib. His death, 193.
CANNAE, the battle fought there described, 270, 271. Number and quality of the Romans slain, 273.
CAPITOL, by whom built, 51. Why so called, 52. Besieged by the Gauls, 179. Saved by Manlius, thence surnamed Capitolinus, 181.
CARTHAGE, described, 233. The corrupt state of it, ib. Besieged by Scipio Aemilianus, 307. Taken and burnt, 308.
CARTHAGINIANS. Cause of the war between them and the Romans, 232. Defeated in a sea-fight by the consul Duillius, 236. Being destitute of generals send to Lacedaemon for Xantippus to command their armies, 240. They defeat the Romans commanded by Regulus, 242. And destroy their fleet in an engagement with Claudius Pulcher, 248. But lose one hundred and twenty of their own ships in another engagement, ib. Are forced to submit to the hard conditions of peace imposed by the Romans, 249. Break the treaty by besieging Saguntum, 252. Recall Hannibal out of Italy, 287. Their forces defeated by Scipio,
3. A treaty of peace concluded between them and the Romans, ib.
CATILI
, SERGIUS, his character and conspiracy, 405—413. His death, 414.
CENSORS, the first institution of them, 159. Wherein their office consisted, ib.
CICERO, M. T. his character, 423. Banished, 425. recalled, 430.
CINNA, CORNELIUS, opposes the interests of Sylla, 355. Is joined by Marius, 360. Raises forces to oppose Sylla, 365. His death, 367.
CLELIA, escapes from the camp of Porsenna, swimming the Tyber on horseback, 69.
CAESAR, JULIUS, his character, 410, 412. Forms a combination with Pompey and Crassus, 418. Gaul assigned to him, 422. A brief relation of his victories there, 426, 427. Recalled, 435. Passeth the Rubicon, 444. Plunders the treasury at Rome, 451. Subdues Spain, and returns victorious to Rome, 454. Defeats Pompey at Pharsalia, 476.
CLODIUS, PUBLIUS, his enmity to Cicero, 424. Killed by Milo, 433.
COLLATINUS, chosen consul with Brutus, 61. Deposed from the consulship and banished, 64.
CONSULS, when first chosen, 61. A law made for chusing one of them from the plebeians, 192.
CORINTH, taken and razed to the ground, 309.
CORIOLANUS, makes a speech which greatly inflames the people, 93. Proceedings of the tribunes against him, 94. Condemned to perpetual exile, 99. Invades the Roman territories, 102. Encamps within five miles of Rome, 103. Approaching nearer the senate and people agree to send deputies with proposals of a restoration, 104. The pathetic speech of his mother Volumnia, 107. His death, 108.
CRASSUS, his character, 391. Becomes one of the triumvirate, 413. Chuses Syria for his share of government, 422.
CURTIUS, leaps on horseback into the gulph in the Forum, 196.
D
DE
IUS MUS, devotes himself as an atonement to save his army, 206.
DECEM
IRI. Occasion of instituting these officers, and the names of the persons first appointed to it, 135. Compile the ten first tables of the Roman law, 136. The intrigues of Appius to get himself continued in the office, 137. Agree on his proposal never to give up their authority, 138. Which they exercise with great licentiousness and cruelty, ib. Add two more tables to the body of laws compiled by them, 139 The intestine divisions their tyranny occasions excite the Aequi and Volsci to make incursions, 140. Demand a power of levying and commanding the forces to go against the Aequi, 142. A period put to their office, 150.
DICTATOR, who first appointed, and on what occasion, 74. Various causes of chusing them, 195.
DRUSUS, following the example of the Gracchi, excites commotions, and is kill'd, 344, 345.
DUILLIUS, obtains a signal victory over the Carthaginians at sea, 236.
F
FABII, four thousand men of this family offer to defend the Roman territories invaded by the Hetrurians, 113. Are all cut off by the Veii, 114.
FABIUS MAXIMUS, elected general against Hannibal, 263. Saves the Roman army when in imminent danger through the rashness of Minucius, 267.
FABRITIUS, sent to treat with Pyrrhus respecting the ransom and exchange of prisoners, 221. His temperance and fortitude, 222. Acquaints Pyrrhus with the treachery of his physician, 225. Sets an example of frugality, and (being censor) ejects a senator for having ten pounds of plate, 230.
FIDENAE, an ancient Roman colony, revolts to the king of the Veii, 162.
FLAMINIUS, rashly encountering Hannibal, is defeated, and about 15000 Romans slain, 262.
G
GAULS, besiege Clusium under the conduct of Brennus, 174. March thence to Rome, 175, which, after defeating the Roman army, they enter without resistance, 178. Defeated by Camillus, 191. Enter Etruria again, wasting all with fire and sword, 251. Being encountered by the Romans 40000 of them are killed, and 10000 taken prisoners, 252.
GLADIATORS, their first institution at Rome, 36.
GRACCHUS TIBERIUS, attempts to renew the Licinian law, 312. Is killed by Saturinus, 316.
GRACCHUS CAIUS, his character, 317, 318. Attempts to reform several corruptions in the state, 319, and to enforce the Licinian law, 321. Being maliciously prosecuted by the senate, who set a price upon his head, he orders his slave to kill him, 328.
GREECE. Liberty restored to it by the Romans, 296.
H
HANNIBAL▪ sworn by his father when very young never to be in friendship with the Romans, 253. His character, ib. 254. Having taken Saguntum and over-run all Spain ma
ches into Italy, 255. Defeats the consul Scipio, 258, and afterwards his colleague Sempronius, 259. Engages and defeats Flaminius with great slaughter, 262. His stratagem to escape from Fabius, 285. The disposition of his forces at Cannae, 269, 270. Slays 50000 Romans there, 273. Leads his army to Capua, 276. Is opposed at Carthage by Hanno, 277. Asdrubal sent to reinforce him, 279. He is recalled, 287. Has an interview with Scipio before the armies engage, 289. Being defeated in battle flies to Adrumetum, 293. Goes to the court of Antiochus, 300. His death, 301.
H
TRURIANS, invade the Roman territories, and defeat the consul Virginius, 113.
HORATII, the combat between them and the Curiatii, 27.
HORATIUS COCLES, bravely defends Rome, 67.
I
I
LYRIANS, make depradations on the trading subjects of Rome, which brings on a war against them, 251. The greatest part of their country ceded, and a tribute imposed on the rest, ib.
JUDAEA, subdued by Pompey, 404.
JUGURTHA, bribes the senate of Rome to countenance his villainies, 332. Summoned to give an account in person of such as had accepted bribes, 333. Obliges the Roman army to pass under the yoke, 335. Constrained by Metellus to beg peace, ib. Brought to Rome by Marius, 340. His death, ib.
L
LAVINUS, sent to interrupt the progress of Pyrrhus in Italy, 213. Is defeated by him with great slaughter, 216.
LARGIUS, on what occasion created the first dictator of Rome, 74.
LATINS, enter into hostility with the Romans by the instigation of Tarquin, 71. Are entirely overthrown near the lake Regillus, 76. They with the Campanians revolt, 203. Are defeated by Manlius Torquatus with great slaughter, and brought entirely under the Roman power, 207.
LAWS, AGRARIAN, when first proposed, 110. Commotions occasioned by attempts to enforce them, 312, 321.
—OF THE TEN TABLES, whence composed, 134. Digested into order by the Decemviri, 136.
LIVIUS ANDRONICUS, the first dramatic poet of Rome, 250.
LUCIUS TARQUIN. PRISCUS, elected king of Rome, 35. His institutions, wars and death, ib.—39.
LUCRETIA, ravished by Sextus Tarquinius, 54. Kills herself, 55.
LUCULLUS, defeats Mithridates and Tigranes, 397. Superseded by Glabrio, and afterwards by Pompey, 398.
LUTATIUS CATULUS, gains a great victory over the Carthaginians at sea, 248.
M
MANLIUS CAPITOLINUS, bravely defends the Capitol, 181. Aspires to be sovereign of Rome, 184. Is thrown from the Tarpeian rock, and his house razed to the ground, 186.
MANLIUS TORQUATUS, punisheth his son with death for fighting contrary to order, 203. Defeats the army of the Latins with great slaughter, 207.
MARIUS, CAIUS, sent against Jugurtha, 336. His character, ib. 3
7. Supplants Metellus, 338. Sent against the Cimbri and Teutones, 341, whom he entirely defeats, ib. Put to flight and declared an enemy of his country by Sylla, 353, 354. Involved i
various dangers and distresses, 358, 359 Joins with Cinna, 360. Makes horrid massacres, 303. His death, 364.
MET
LLUS, sent against Jugurtha constrains him to beg peace, 335. Being ungratefully persecuted by Marius goes into voluntary exile, 342. Is recalled, 343.
M
THRIDATES, war declared against him, 348. Is defeated near Athens with great loss of his forces, 364. Concludes a peace, ib. Unites with Tigranes, and invades Bythinia, 396. Defeated by Lucullus, 397. By Pompey, 400. His death, 402.
MUTUS SCAEVOLA, attempts to kill Porsenna, but failing of success burns his right hand, 68, 69.
N.
NUMA, POMPILIUS, chosen king of Rome. 22. His various institutions, and death, 23—25.
NUMITOR, the last king of Alba, supplanted by his brother Amulius, who murders his sons, and possesseth the kingdom, 2, 3.
O.
OTATION, wherein it differs from a triumph, 70. To whom, and on what occasion first decreed, ib.
P.
PATRICIANS, by the laws of the twelve tables forbid to marry with the plebeians, 145. The tribunes make a law to permit them, 156.
P
US, king of Macedon, makes war against Rome, 303, is defeated by Emilius, ib.
P
SALIA, the armies of Caesar and Pompey meet there,
The order of t
e battle on both sides, 471, 472.
PHILIP, king of Macedon, engaged in war with the Romans, for having made a league with the Carthaginians, 280, which is concluded after twenty years continuance, 296.
PLEB
IANS, their power, 10. The oppressions and miseries they were subjected to by the avarice of the rich and powerful, which in the end occasioned the creation of the tribunes of the people, 72—88. Great tu
ts and contests between them and the patricians, caused by one of their tribunes, 116. A law procured, giving them equal influence with the patricians in all elections and debates, 154. A law passed for ch
ing one of the consuls from their body, 192.
POETRY, its rise among the Romans, 249, 250.
POMPEY CN
IUS, espouseth the interests of Sylla, 369. Puts an end to the servile war, 389. Contests with Crassus for power, 391. Clears the sea of pirates, 394. Appointed general against Mithridates, 395, whom he defeats, 400. Enters Rome in triumph, 404. A character of him, 415. Ordered by the senate to oppose Caesar, 441. Leads his forces to Capua, 446. Routs Caesar's forces, 463. Being defeated at Pharsalia, flies to Larissa, thence to Lesbos, 480, and Egypt, 48
. His death, 485. A further character of him 486.
PORCIUS, CATO, his character, and speech in the senate, 412.
POR
ENNA, king of Etruria, lays siege to Rome, 67. Offers conditions of peace, which were accepted, 69.
PRAETOR, when first appointed, and wherein his office consists, 193.
PUNIC WAR, what gave rise to the first, 232. Concluded on hard conditions to the Carthaginians, 249. The second declared, 253. Concluded, 293. Commencement of the third, 304. Its conclusion by the destruction of Carthage, 309.
PYRRHUS, invited by the Tarentines, comes with an army into Italy, 212. Defeats the Romans, but with great slaughter on both sides, 216. Endeavours to bribe the Romans to a peace, but in vain, 218. Gains a second victory, but with considerable loss, 224. Retreats into Sicily, 226. Having returned into Italy, encounters the Romans, is defeated, and his camp taken, 228. Returns into Greece, 229.
Q.
QUINTIUS CINCINNATUS, his frugality and industry, 121, elected consul, 124. His conduct and virtues, ib. 125. Created dictator, 126. Marches to the relief of the consul Min
tius, surrounded by the Aequi and Volsci, 127. Having rescued the army, and defeated the enemy, resigns his dictatorship, and returns to his farm, 12
.
R.
REGULUS, sent with Manlius into Africa, to carry on the war with Carthage, 237. His character, ib. Defeats the Carthaginian fleet, 238. Makes a descent on the coast, and takes the city Clupea, ib. Several of his men destroyed by a huge serpent, 139; which at length they kill, and its skin is sent to Rome, ib. Obtains another victory, and takes eighty towns, ib. 240. I
defeated by Xantippus with great slaughter of the Roman army, and himself taken prisoner, 242, 243. Sent to Rome to treat of a peace, on condition to return if unsuccessful, 245 Advises to continue the war, 246, and returns to Carthage, 247, where he is put to death with great torture, ib.
ROME,
ounded, 6. Improved and adorned by L. Tarq
i
i
s Prisc
s, 37. Extent of its territory a
the time of Tarq
i
's expulsion, 59. Besieg
by Porsenna, 67. The severity of its laws with respect to debtors, 72. Its increase of people without commerce tended to advance the disturbances in it, 114. Endangered by an army of fugitives led by a Sabine, 122. Ambassadors sent to the Greek cities in Italy, and to Athens, to bring laws from thence for its government, 134. A contrast between the state of it and Carthage, 233. The great terror and consternation of its inhabitants on the defeat at Cannae, 273. Gives the freedom of the city to those Italian states that had not revolted during the social war, 347. Its government converted into despotism, 380.
ROMULUS, his birth, 3. How preserved, ib. 4. Slays Amulius, and reinstates Numitor in his kingdom, 5. Slays his brother Remus, 6. Elected king, 8. His religious, civil, and military institutions, 11—14. Makes war with the Sabines, and other neighbouring states, 15—18. Grows absolute, 19. His death, 20.
S.
SABINES, rape of their women, and consequent war with the Romans, 15—18.
SAMNITES, attacked by the Romans, 197. Their frivolous pretences for this war, 198. Defeated by the Romans with great slaughter, 200. A peace concluded with them, 203. War being renewed, the Samnites oblige the Roman army to pass under the yoke, 209. Are afterwards served in the same manner by the Romans, 210. They, and other states, being quite exhausted, call in Pyrrhus to their assistance, 211, 226.
SCIPIO, defeated by Hannibal near Ticinum, 258.
SCIPIO, son of the former, his noble resolution after the defeat at Cannae, 274. His character, 281. Carries the war into Africa, 284. Defeats Hannibal, 293. His death, 302.
SEMPRONIUS, defeated by Hannibal, with the loss of 26000 Romans, 259.
SENATE, of whom at first composed, 9. Augmented by L. Tarquinius Priscus, 35. Their artifice to cause the people to enlist in an expedition against the Aequi, 112. To remedy the evils and oppressions of the people, resolve to pay the soldiery out of the treasury, imposing a new tax for that purpose, 166. Ruffinus ejected for being possessed of ten pounds of plate, 230. The great corruption and change of conduct in it, at the time of the Gracchi, 329. Great contests and debates in it between the partizans of Caesar and Pompey, 435—441. Dispossessed of all its power, 487.
SERTORIUS, his character, exploits, and death, 386, 387.
SERVIUS TULLIUS, appointed king by the senate of Rome, 41. Divides the people into classes and centuries, 42. His other regulations, and death, 44—48.
SEXTIUS, a tribune, the first plebeian that was chosen consul, 193.
SICCIUS DENTATUS, his great merits and hardships, 130. Gains a signal victory over the Aequi, and is created a tribune, 132. Treacherously cut off by the decemviri for having inveighed against their conduct, 144.
SICILY, desire of possessing it the cause of the first Punic war, 232. The Romans first entrance into it, 234.
SOCIAL WAR, the occasion of it, 345. Its conclusion, 347.
SOLDIERY, for what reason first paid out of the treasury, 166.
SOPHONISBA, wife of Syphax, marries Massinissa, 286. Her death, 287.
SPAIN, made a Roman province, 311. Government of it assigned to Pompey, 422.
SPURIUS CASSIUS VISCELLINUS, by his vanity and ambition causes disturbances in the commonwealth, 109. Thrown headlong from the Tarpelan rock, 112.
SPURIUS MAELIUS, aiming at power, makes himself popular by great distributions of corn, 160. Refusing to appear at the dictator's tribunal, is killed by his master of the horse, sent to force him, 161.
STOLO, makes a law that no man should possess above 500 acres of land, which himself transgressing, is punished by it, 190,
SYILA, appointed general against Mithridates, 348. His character, 349. Puts Marius and his party to flight, 3
3. Defeats Mithridates, 364. Returns to Italy to take vengeance of his enemies, 368. Involves his country in a civil war, 371; which is continued with great obstinacy and slaughter, till Sylla at length is compleatly victorious, ib. 3
7. Instances of his horrid cruelty, ib. 379. Causes himself to be chosen perpetual dictator, 380. Which having exercised with tyranny he lays down, 382. His death, 383.
SYPHAX, defeated by Scipio, 284.
SYRACUSE, taken by the Romans, 281.
T.
TARENTUM, taken and dismantled by the Romans, 231.
TARQUINIUS, LUCIUS SUPERBUS, having slain Servius Tullius, succeeds to the throne, 49. Reduces the Gabii by stratagem, 50. Builds the capitol, 51. Banished by the senate, 58. Marches with a considerable army against Rome, 64. Defeated, 65. Forms fresh alliances for regaining the crown, 66. Excites the Latins to espouse his cause, 71.
TERENTIUS VARRO, chosen consul, 268. His character, ib. Engages with Hannibal at Cannae, 269. Defeated with horrid slaughter of the Romans, 273. How received on his return to Rome, 275.
TRIBUNES MILITARY, when first instituted, 158.
TRIBUNES of the people, on what occasion first created, 88. The extent and limits of their authority, 89. Great contests between the patricians and plebeians, occasioned by one of them, 116. New commotions caused by them, 121. Their number encreased from five to ten, 129. Are the cause of further disturbances, 130.
TRIUMVIRATE, the first when, and by whom formed, 418.
TULLUS HOSTILIUS, elected king of Rome, 25. His martial atchievements and death, 26—31.
V.
VALERIUS CORVUS, his character, 199. Relieves Capua, besieged by the Samnites, ib. Being created dictator, and sent to oppose an army of the Romans, which had revolted, by his prudence reduces them to their duty without bloodshed, 201, 202.
VALERIUS PUBLIUS POPLICOLA, elected consul in the room of Collatinus, 64. Triumphs at Rome for the victory over Tarquin, 65. Enacts several laws in favour of the people, 66.
VEII, Fidenae, a Roman colony, revolts to them, 162.
VIRGINIUS, slays his daughter, to preserve her from the lust of Appius, one of the decemviri, 150.
VOLERO, a Centurion, scourged for refusing to enlist a
a private soldier, 116. Made a tribune of the people, ib. Moves for a law that the plebeian magistrates should be chosen only by co
itia by tribes, ib. which greatly embarrasses the senate, and produces tumults▪ but is passed, 118.
VOLSCIANS, a people of Latium, war commenced with them, 50. Invade the Roman territories with an army commanded by Coriolanus and Tullus, 102. Encamp before the walls of Rome, 104. The army withdrawn by Coriolanus, 108. The Romans obtain a signal victory over them, ib. With the Aequi they make incursions, and advance towards Rome, prompted by the divisions of the people, 140. In the end are subdued, 197.
X.
XANTIPPUS, the Lacedemonian, made general of the Carthaginians, 241. Defeats the Roman army with dreadful slaughter, 242. The ingratitude of the Carthaginians to him, 243.
END OF VOL I.