TARQUINIUS CONSULTS THE ORACLE
[Sidenote: [_ca._ 510 B.C.]]
While King Tarquinius was at the height of his greatness, it chanced
upon a time that from the altar in the court of his palace there crawled
out a snake, which devoured the offerings laid on the altar. So the king
thought it not enough to consult the soothsayers of the Etruscans whom he
had with him, but he sent two of his own sons to Delphi, to ask counsel
of the oracle of the Greeks; for the oracle of Delphi was famous in all
lands. So his sons Titus and Aruns went to Delphi, and they took with
them their cousin Lucius Junius, whom men called Brutus, that is, the
dullard; for he seemed to be wholly without wit, and he would eat wild
figs with honey. This Lucius was not really dull, but very subtle; and it
was for fear of his uncle’s cruelty, that he made himself as one without
sense; for he was very rich, and he feared lest King Tarquinius should
kill him for the sake of his inheritance. So when he went to Delphi he
carried with him a staff of horn, and the staff was hollow, and it was
filled with gold, and he gave the staff to the oracle as a likeness of
himself; for though he seemed dull, and of no account to look upon, yet
he had a golden wit within. When the three young men had performed the
king’s bidding, they asked the oracle for themselves, and they said, “O
Lord Apollo, tell us, which of us shall be king in Rome?” Then there
came a voice from the sanctuary and said, “Whichever of you shall first
kiss his mother.” So the sons of Tarquinius agreed to draw lots between
themselves, which of them should first kiss their mother, when they
should have returned to Rome; and they said they would keep the oracle
secret from their brother Sextus, lest he should be king rather than
they. But Lucius understood the mind of the oracle better; so as they all
went down from the temple, he stumbled as if by chance, and fell with his
face to the earth, and kissed the earth; for he said, “The earth is the
true mother of us all.”
Now when they came back to Rome, King Tarquinius was at war with the
people of Ardea; and as the city was strong, his army lay a long while
before it, till it should be forced to yield through famine. So the
Romans had leisure for feasting and for diverting themselves; and once
Titus and Aruns were supping with their brother Sextus, and their cousin
Tarquinius of Collatia was supping with them. And they disputed about
their wives, whose wife of them all was the worthiest lady. Then said
Tarquinius of Collatia, “Let us go, and see with our own eyes what our
wives are doing, so shall we know which is the worthiest.” Upon this they
all mounted their horses, and rode first to Rome; and there they found
the wives of Titus, and of Aruns, and of Sextus, feasting and making
merry. They then rode on to Collatia, and it was late in the night,
but they found Lucretia, the wife of Tarquinius of Collatia, neither
feasting, nor yet sleeping, but she was sitting with all her handmaids
around her, and all were working at the loom. So when they saw this,
they all said, “Lucretia is the worthiest lady.” And she entertained her
husband and his kinsmen, and after that they rode back to the camp before
Ardea.
THE RAPE OF LUCRETIA
But a spirit of wicked passion seized upon Sextus, and a few days
afterwards he went alone to Collatia, and Lucretia received him
hospitably, for he was her husband’s kinsman. At midnight he arose and
went to her chamber, and he said that if she yielded not to him, he would
slay her and one of her slaves with her, and would say to her husband
that he had slain her in her adultery. So when Sextus had accomplished
his wicked purpose, he went back again to the camp.
Then Lucretia sent in haste to Rome, to pray that her father Spurius
Lucretius would come to her; and she sent to Ardea to summon her husband.
Her father brought along with him Publius Valerius, and her husband
brought with him Lucius Junius, whom men call Brutus. When they arrived,
they asked earnestly, “Is all well?” Then she told them of the wicked
deed of Sextus, and she said, “If ye be men, avenge it.” And they all
swore to her, that they would avenge it. Then she said again, “I am not
guilty; yet must I too share in the punishment of this deed, lest any
should think that they may be false to their husbands and live.” And she
drew a knife from her bosom, and stabbed herself to the heart.
At that sight her husband and her father cried aloud; but Lucius drew
the knife from the wound, and held it up, and said, “By this blood I
swear, that I will visit this deed upon King Tarquinius, and all his
accursed race; neither shall any man hereafter be king in Rome, lest he
do the like wickedness.” And he gave the knife to her husband, and to her
father, and to Publius Valerius. They marvelled to hear such words from
him whom men called dull; but they swore also, and they took up the body
of Lucretia, and carried it down into the Forum; and they said, “Behold
the deeds of the wicked family of Tarquinius.” All the people of Collatia
were moved, and the men took up arms, and they set a guard at the gates,
that none might go out to carry the tidings to Tarquinius, and they
followed Lucius to Rome. There, too, all the people came together, and
the crier summoned them to assemble before the tribune of the Celeres,
for Lucius held that office. And Lucius spoke to them of all the tyranny
of Tarquinius and his sons, and of the wicked deed of Sextus. And the
people in their curiæ took back from Tarquinius the sovereign power,
which they had given him, and they banished him and all his family. Then
the younger men followed Lucius to Ardea, to win over the army there to
join them; and the city was left in the charge of Spurius Lucretius.
But the wicked Tullia fled in haste from her house, and all, both men
and women, cursed her as she passed, and prayed that the furies of her
father’s blood might visit her with vengeance.[b]
NIEBUHR ON THE STORY OF LUCRETIA
This entire story, which Shakespeare himself put into poetry, has met
with the wholesale scepticism that has visited all the Roman legends.
But the incredulous Niebuhr, for one, accepts it: “It may easily be
believed,” he says, “that Sextus Tarquinius committed the outrage on
Lucretia, for similar things are still of every-day occurrence in Turkey,
and were frequently perpetrated in the Middle Ages by Italian princes
down to the time of Pietro Luigi Farnese (in the sixteenth century); in
antiquity similar crimes are met with in oligarchies and tyrannies, as is
well known from the history of Demetrius Poliorcetes at Athens. Cicero
is quite right in saying that it was a misfortune that Sextus hit upon
a woman belonging to one of the most powerful families. It may readily
be believed that the woman tried to avenge herself, but the whole of
the subsequent events, by which the story acquired individuality and
its connection with the campaign against Ardea, are of no historical
value. The king is said to have been encamped before Ardea, and to have
concluded a truce for fifteen years; but Ardea was dependent upon Rome
before that time, since it occurs among the towns on behalf of which Rome
concluded the treaty with Carthage. All therefore that remains and bears
the appearance of probability, is that Lucretia was outraged, and that
her death kindled the spark which had long been smouldering under the
ashes.
“We are in the same perplexity in regard to the person of Brutus. He
is said to have feigned stupidity in order to deceive the king, and
there were several traditions as to the manner in which he attempted
to accomplish this object. His mission to Delphi along with the sons
of Tarquinius, although the mission from Agylla at an earlier period
cannot be doubted, seems to betray a later hand, and probably the same
as introduced the stories from Herodotus into Roman history. It is
further said that Tarquinius, in order to render the dignity of _tribunus
celerum_ the highest after that of the king, powerless for mischief,
gave the office to Brutus. But there is every reason for believing that
the whole story of Brutus’ idiocy arose solely from his name. Brutus is
undoubtedly an Oscan word connected with the same root as Bruttii; it
signifies ‘a runaway slave,’ a name which the insolent faction of the
king gave to the leader of the rebels because he was a plebeian. How is
it conceivable that a great king, such as Tarquinius really was, should
have raised an idiot whom he might have put to death to the dignity
of _tribunus celerum_--for the purpose of rendering it contemptible?
Tarquinius was not a tyrant of such a kind as to be under the necessity
of weakening the state in order to govern it; he might have given it
power and vigour and yet ruled over it by his great personal qualities;
nor did the Romans think differently of him, for his statue continued to
be preserved in the Capitol.”[f]
THE BANISHMENT OF TARQUINIUS
Meanwhile King Tarquinius set out with speed to Rome to put down the
tumult. But Lucius turned aside from the road, that he might not meet
him, and came to the camp; and the soldiers joyfully received him, and
they drove out the sons of Tarquinius. King Tarquinius came to Rome,
but the gates were shut, and they declared to him, from the walls, the
sentence of banishment which had been passed against him and his family.
So he yielded to his fortune, and went to live at Cære with his sons
Titus and Aruns. His other son, Sextus, went to Gabii, and the people
there, remembering how he had betrayed them to his father, slew him. Then
the army left the camp before Ardea, and went back to Rome. And all men
said, “Let us follow the good laws of the good king Servius; and let us
meet in our centuries, according as he directed, and let us choose two
men year by year to govern us, instead of a king.” Then the people met in
their centuries in the field of Mars, and they chose two men to rule over
them, Lucius Junius, whom men called Brutus, and Lucius Tarquinius of
Collatia.
But the people were afraid of Lucius Tarquinius for his name’s sake,
for it seemed as though a Tarquinius were still king over them. So they
prayed him to depart from Rome, and he went and took all his goods with
him, and settled himself at Lavinium. Then the senate and the people
decreed that all the house of the Tarquinii should be banished, even
though they were not of the king’s family. And the people met again in
their centuries, and chose Publius Valerius to rule over them together
with Brutus, in the room of Lucius Tarquinius of Collatia.
Now at this time many of the laws of the good king Servius were restored,
which Tarquinius the tyrant had overthrown. For the commons again chose
their own judges, to try all causes between a man and his neighbour; and
they had again their meetings and their sacrifices in the city and in the
country, every man in his own tribe and in his own district. And lest
there should seem to be two kings instead of one, it was ordered that one
only of the two should bear rule at one time, and that the lictors with
their rods and axes should walk before him alone. And the two were to
bear rule month by month.
Then King Tarquinius sent to Rome, to ask for all the goods that had
belonged to him; and the senate after a while decreed that the goods
should be given back. But those whom he had sent to Rome to ask for his
goods, had meetings with many young men of noble birth, and a plot was
laid to bring back King Tarquinius. So the young men wrote letters to
Tarquinius, pledging to him their faith, and among them were Titus and
Tiberius, the sons of Brutus. But a slave happened to overhear them
talking together, and when he knew that the letters were to be given to
the messengers of Tarquinius, he went and told all that he had heard to
Brutus and to Publius Valerius. Then they came and seized the young men
and their letters, and so the plot was broken up.
After this there was a strange and piteous sight to behold. Brutus and
Publius sat on their judgment seats in the Forum, and the young men were
brought before them. Then Brutus bade the lictors to bind his own two
sons, Titus and Tiberius, together with the others, and to scourge them
with rods, according to the law. And after they had been scourged, the
lictors struck off their heads with their axes, before the eyes of their
father; and Brutus neither stirred from his seat nor turned away his eyes
from the sight, yet men saw as they looked on him that his heart was
grieving inwardly over his children. Then they marvelled at him, because
he had loved justice more than his own blood, and had not spared his own
children when they had been false to their country, and had offended
against the law.
When King Tarquinius found that the plot was broken up, he persuaded the
people of Veii and the people of Tarquinii, cities of the Etruscans,
to try to bring him back to Rome by force of arms. So they assembled
their armies, and Tarquinius led them within the Roman border. Brutus
and Publius led the Romans out to meet them, and it chanced that Brutus,
with the Roman horsemen, and Aruns, the son of King Tarquinius, with the
Etruscan horse, met each other in advance of the main battles. Aruns,
seeing Brutus in his kingly robe, and with the lictors of a king around
him, levelled his spear, and spurred his horse against him. Brutus met
him, and each ran his spear through the body of the other, and they both
fell dead. Then the horsemen on both parts fought, and afterwards the
main battles, and the Veientines were beaten, but the Tarquinians beat
the Romans, and the battle was neither won nor lost; but in the night
there came a voice out of the wood that was hard by, and it said, “One
man more has fallen on the part of the Etruscans than on the part of the
Romans; the Romans are to conquer in the war.” At this the Etruscans
were afraid, and believing the voice, they immediately marched home to
their own country, while the Romans took up Brutus, and carried him home
and buried him; and Publius made an oration in his praise, and all the
matrons of Rome mourned for him for a whole year, because he had avenged
Lucretia well.
When Brutus was dead, Publius ruled over the people himself; and he began
to build a great and strong house on the top of the hill Velia, which
looks down upon the Forum. This made the people say, “Publius wants to
become a king, and is building a house in a strong place, as if for a
citadel where he may live with his guards, and oppress us.” But he called
the people together, and when he went down to them, the lictors who
walked before him lowered the rods and the axes which they bore, to show
that he owned the people to be greater than himself. He complained that
they had mistrusted him, and he said that he would not build his house on
the top of the hill Velia, but at the bottom of it, and his house should
be no stronghold. And he called on them to make a law, that whoever
should try to make himself king should be accursed, and whosoever would
might slay him. Also, that if a magistrate were going to scourge or kill
any citizen, he might carry his cause before the people, and they should
judge him. When these laws were passed, all men said, “Publius is a lover
of the people, and seeks their good”: and he was called Publicola, which
means, “the people’s friend,” from that day forward.
Then Publius called the people together in their centuries, and they
chose Spurius Lucretius, the father of Lucretia, to be their magistrate
for the year, in the room of Brutus. But he was an old man, and his
strength was so much gone, that after a few days he died. They then chose
in his room Marcus Horatius.
Now Publius and Marcus cast lots which should dedicate the temple to
Jupiter on the hill of the Capitol, which King Tarquinius had built;
and the lot fell to Marcus, to the great discontent of the friends of
Publius. So when Marcus was going to begin the dedication, and had his
hand on the doorpost of the temple, and was speaking the set words of
prayer, there came a man running to tell him that his son was dead. But
he said, “Then let them carry him out and bury him”; and he neither wept
nor lamented, for the words of lamentation ought not to be spoken when
men are praying to the blessed gods, and dedicating a temple to their
honour. So Marcus honoured the gods above his son, and dedicated the
temple on the hill of the Capitol; and his name was recorded on the front
of the temple.
PORSENNA’S WAR UPON THE ROMANS; THE STORY OF HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE, AS
TOLD BY DIONYSIUS
But when King Tarquinius found that the Veientines and Tarquinians were
not able to restore him to his kingdom, he went to Clusium, a city in
the farthest part of Etruria, beyond the Ciminian forest, and besought
Lars Porsenna, the king of Clusium, to aid him. So Porsenna raised a
great army, and marched against Rome, and attacked the Romans on the hill
Janiculum, the hill on the outside of the city beyond the Tiber.[b]
When the two armies charged, they both fought bravely and sustained the
shock for a considerable time, the Romans having the advantage of their
enemies both in experience and perseverance, and the Tyrrhenians and
Latins being much superior in number. And, many being killed on both
sides, fear seized the Romans; first, those on the left wing, when they
saw their two commanders, Valerius, and Lucretius, carried out of the
field wounded; after which, those on the right wing, who had already the
advantage over the forces commanded by Tarquinius, seeing the flight of
their friends, were possessed with the same terror. And all of them,
hastening to the city, and endeavouring to force their way in a body over
the same bridge, the enemy made a strong attack upon them; and the city
having no walls in that part next the river, was very near being taken by
storm, which had certainly happened if the pursuers had entered it at the
same time with those who fled. But three men put a stop to the pursuit of
the enemy and saved the whole army; two of these were Spurius Lartius and
Titus Herminius among the elders, who had the command of the right wing;
and of the younger, Publius Horatius, who was called Cocles from the loss
of one of his eyes, which had been struck out in a battle; a person,
of all men, the most remarkable for the fine proportion of his limbs,
and for his bravery. This man was nephew to Marcus Horatius, one of the
consuls, but derived his high birth from Marcus Horatius, one of the
three brothers who overcame the three Albans. These three without other
assistance, placing their backs against the bridge, stopped the passage
of the enemy for a considerable time, and stood their ground while a
shower of all sorts of weapons fell upon them, and numbers also pressed
them sword in hand, till the whole army passed the river.
When they judged their own men to be in safety, two of them, Herminius,
and Lartius, their defensive arms being now rendered useless by continual
strokes, retreated leisurely; while Horatius alone, though not only the
consuls, but the rest of the people, solicitous above all things to
preserve such a man for his country and his parents, called to him from
the city to retire, could not be prevailed on, but remained upon the same
spot where he first stood, and directed Herminius and Lartius to desire
the consuls, as from him, to order that part of the bridge which was
next the city immediately to be cut off (for there was but one bridge at
that time, which was built of wood, and mortised together with timber
alone, without iron, which the Romans preserve even to this day in the
same condition) and that, when the greatest part of the bridge was broken
down and little of it remained, they should give him notice of it by some
signals, or by speaking louder than ordinary; as to the rest, he told
them he would take care of it. Having given these directions to these two
persons, he stood upon the bridge itself, and when the enemy advanced
upon him, he struck some of them with his sword, and beating down others
with his shield, he repulsed all who attempted to pass the bridge; for
these looking upon him as a madman, and one who had devoted himself to
destruction, durst no longer approach him; at the same time, it was not
easy for them to come near him, because the river defended him on the
right and left, and before him lay a heap of arms and dead bodies. But
standing all at a distance, they threw spears, darts, and large stones
at him, and those who were not supplied with these, threw the swords
and bucklers of the slain. But he fought still, making use of their own
weapons against them; and throwing these among the crowd, he could not
fail, as may well be supposed, to hit somebody. And now, overwhelmed
with missive weapons, and having a great number of wounds in many parts
of his body, but one particularly, occasioned by a spear, which, passing
over the top of his thigh, pierced the forepart of one of his hips, and
putting him to great pain, impeded his motion. When hearing those behind
him call out that the greatest part of the bridge was broken down, he
leaped, with his arms, into the river, and swimming across the stream
with great difficulty (for the current, being divided by the piles, ran
swift, and formed large eddies), he landed without losing any of his arms.
[Illustration: HORATIUS DEFENDING THE BRIDGE OVER THE TIBER]
This action gained him immortal glory, for the Romans immediately crowned
him, and conducted him into the city with songs, as one of the heroes;
and all the inhabitants ran out of their houses, desiring to have the
last sight of him before he died, for it was thought he could not long
survive his wounds. And when he was recovered, the people erected a
brazen statue of him all armed, in the most conspicuous part of the
Forum, and gave him as much of the public land as he himself could
plough around in one day with a yoke of oxen. Besides these things
bestowed upon him by the public, every particular man and woman in the
city, at a time when they were all the most oppressed by a dreadful
scarcity of necessary provisions, gave him as much as would maintain each
of them one day, the number of people in the whole amounting to more than
three hundred thousand. Thus Horatius, who had shown so great valour
upon that occasion, was looked upon by the Romans with all possible
admiration; but rendered useless by his lameness in the subsequent
affairs of the commonwealth, and by reason of his calamity, he obtained
neither the consulship nor any other military command.[g]
_Caius Mucius and King Porsenna_
But the Etruscans still lay before the city, and the Romans suffered
much from hunger. Then a young man of noble blood, Caius Mucius by name,
went to the senate, and offered to go to the camp of the Etruscans, and
to slay King Porsenna. So he crossed the river and made his way into
the camp, and there he saw a man sitting on a high place, and wearing
a scarlet robe, and many coming and going about him; and, saying to
himself, “This must be King Porsenna,” he went up to his seat amidst the
crowd, and when he came near to the man he drew a dagger from under his
garment, and stabbed him. But it was the king’s scribe whom he had slain,
who was the king’s chief officer; so he was seized and brought before
the king, and the guards threatened him with sharp torments, unless he
would answer all their questions. But he said, “See now, how little I
care for your torments”; and he thrust his right hand into the fire that
was burning there on the altar, and he did not move it till it was quite
consumed. Then King Porsenna marvelled at his courage, and said, “Go thy
way, for thou hast harmed thyself more than me; and thou art a brave man,
and I send thee back to Rome unhurt and free.” But Caius answered, “For
this thou shalt get more of my secret than thy tortures could have forced
from me. Three hundred noble youths of Rome have bound themselves by
oath to take thy life. Mine was the first adventure; but the others will
each in his turn lie in wait for thee. I warn thee therefore to look to
thyself well.” Then Caius was let go, and went back again into the city.
But King Porsenna was greatly moved, and made the Romans offers of peace,
to which they listened gladly, and gave up the land beyond the Tiber
which had been won in former times from the Veientines; and he gave back
to them the hill Janiculum. Besides this the Romans gave hostages to the
king, ten youths and ten maidens, children of noble fathers, as a pledge
that they would truly keep the peace which they had made. But it chanced
as the camp of the Etruscans was near the Tiber, that Clœlia, one of the
maidens, escaped with her fellows and fled to the brink of the river, and
as the Etruscans pursued them, Clœlia spoke to the other maidens, and
persuaded them, and they rushed all into the water, and swam across the
river, and got safely over. At this King Porsenna marvelled more than
ever, and when the Romans sent back Clœlia and her fellows to him, for
they kept their faith truly, he bade her go home free, and he gave her
some of the youths also who were hostages, to choose whom she would; and
she chose those who were of tenderest age, and King Porsenna set them
free. Then the Romans gave lands to Caius, and set up a statue of Clœlia
in the highest part of the Sacred Way; and King Porsenna led away his
army home in peace.
After this King Porsenna made war against the Latins, and his army was
beaten, and fled to Rome; and the Romans received them kindly, and took
care of those who were wounded, and sent them back safe to King Porsenna.
For this the king gave back to the Romans all the rest of their hostages
whom he had still with him, and also the land which they had won from
the Veientines. So Tarquinius, seeing that there was no more hope of aid
from King Porsenna, left Clusium and went to Tusculum of the Latins; for
Octavius Mamilius, the chief of the Tusculans, had married his daughter,
and he hoped that the Latins would restore him to Rome, for their cities
were many, and when he had been king he had favoured them rather than the
Romans.
So, after a time, thirty cities of the Latins joined together and made
Octavius Mamilius their general, and declared war against the Romans. Now
Publius Valerius was dead, and the Romans so loved and honoured him that
they buried him within the city, near the hill Velia, and all the matrons
of Rome had mourned for him for a whole year: also because the Romans had
the Sabines for their enemies as well as the Latins, they had made one
man to be their ruler for a time instead of two; and he was called the
master of the people, or the commander, and he had all the power which
the kings of Rome had in times past. So Aulus Postumius was appointed
master of the people at this time, and Titus Æbutius was the chief or
master of the horsemen; and they led out the whole force of the Romans,
and met the Latins by the lake Regillus, in the country of Tusculum:
and Tarquinius himself was with the army of the Latins, and his son and
all the houses of the Tarquinii; for this was their last hope, and fate
was now to determine whether the Romans should be ruled over by King
Tarquinius, or whether they should be free forever.
There were many Romans who had married Latin wives, and many Latins who
had married wives from among the Romans. So before the war began, it was
resolved that the women on both sides might leave their husbands if they
chose, and take their virgin daughters with them, and return to their
own country. And all the Latin women, except two, remained in Rome with
their husbands: but the Roman women loved Rome more than their husbands,
and took their young daughters with them, and came home to the houses of
their fathers.
THE BATTLE OF LAKE REGILLUS
Then the Romans and the Latins joined battle by the lake Regillus. There
might you see King Tarquinius, though far advanced in years, yet mounted
on his horse and bearing his lance in his hand, as bravely as though he
were still young. There was his son Tarquinius, leading on to battle all
the band of the house of the Tarquinii, whom the Romans had banished for
their name’s sake, and who thought it a proud thing to win back their
country by their swords, and to become again the royal house, to give a
king to the Romans. There was Octavius Mamilius, of Tusculum, the leader
of all the Latins, who said, that he would make Tarquinius, his father,
king once more in Rome, and the Romans should help the Latins in all
their wars, and Tusculum should be the greatest of all the cities whose
people went up together to sacrifice to Jupiter of the Latins at his
temple on the high top of the mountain of Alba. And on the side of the
Romans might be seen Aulus Postumius, the master of the people, and Titus
Æbutius, the master of the horsemen. There also was Titus Herminius, who
had fought on the bridge by the side of Horatius Cocles, on the day
when they saved Rome from King Porsenna. There was Marcus Valerius, the
brother of Publius, who said he would finish by the lake Regillus the
glorious work which Publius had begun in Rome; for Publius had driven out
Tarquinius and his house, and had made them live as banished men, and now
they should lose their lives as they had lost their country. So at the
first onset King Tarquinius levelled his lance, and rode against Aulus;
and on the left of the battle, Titus Æbutius spurred his horse against
Octavius Mamilius. But King Tarquinius, before he reached Aulus, received
a wound into his side, and his followers gathered around him, and bore
him out of the battle. And Titus and Octavius met lance to lance, and
Titus struck Octavius on the breast, and Octavius ran his lance through
the arm of Titus. So Titus withdrew from the battle, for his arm could
no longer wield its weapon; but Octavius heeded not his hurt, but when
he saw his Latins giving ground, he called to the banished Romans of the
house of the Tarquinii, and sent them into the thick of the fight. On
they rushed so fiercely that neither man nor horse could stand before
them; for they thought how they had been driven from their country, and
spoiled of their goods, and they said that they would win back both that
day through the blood of their enemies.
Then Marcus Valerius, the brother of Publius, levelled his lance and
rode fiercely against Titus Tarquinius, who was the leader of the band
of the Tarquinii. But Titus drew back, and sheltered himself amidst his
band: and Marcus rode after him in his fury, and plunged into the midst
of the enemy, and a Latin ran his lance into his side as he was rushing
on; but his horse stayed not in his career, till Marcus dropped from him
dead upon the ground. Then the Romans feared yet more, and the Tarquinii
charged yet more vehemently, till Aulus, the leader of the Romans, rode
up with his own chosen band; and he bade them level their lances, and
slay all whose faces were towards them, whether they were friends or
foes. So the Romans turned from their flight, and Aulus and his chosen
band fell upon the Tarquinii; and Aulus prayed, and vowed that he would
raise a temple to Castor and to Pollux, the twin heroes, if they would
aid him to win the battle; and he promised to his soldiers that the
two who should be the first to break into the camp of the enemy should
receive a rich reward. When behold there rode two horsemen at the head of
his chosen band, and they were taller and fairer than after the stature
and beauty of men, and they were in the first bloom of youth, and their
horses were white as snow. Then there was a fierce battle, when Octavius,
the leader of the Latins, came up with aid to rescue the Tarquinii; for
Titus Herminius rode against him, and ran his spear through his body, and
slew him at one blow; but as he was spoiling him of his arms, he himself
was struck by a javelin, and he was borne out of the fight and died. And
the two horsemen on white horses rode before the Romans; and the enemy
fled before them, and the Tarquinii were beaten down and slain, and Titus
Tarquinius was slain among them; and the Latins fled, and the Romans
followed them to their camp, and the two horsemen on white horses were
the first who broke into the camp. But when the camp was taken, and the
battle was fully won, Aulus sought for the two horsemen to give them the
rewards which he had promised; and they were not found either amongst the
living or amongst the dead, only there was seen imprinted on the hard
black rock, the mark of a horse’s hoof, which no earthly horse had ever
made; and the mark was there to be seen in after ages. And the battle was
ended, and the sun went down.
Now they knew at Rome that the armies had joined battle, and as the day
wore away all men longed for tidings. And the sun went down, and suddenly
there were seen in the Forum two horsemen, taller and fairer than the
tallest and fairest of men, and they rode on white horses, and they
were as men just come from the battle, and their horses were all bathed
in foam. They alighted by the temple of Vesta, where a spring of water
bubbles up from the ground and fills a small deep pool. There they washed
away the stains of the battle, and when men crowded round them, and asked
for tidings, they told them how the battle had been fought, and how it
was won. And they mounted their horses, and rode from the Forum, and were
seen no more; and men sought for them in every place, but they were not
found.
Then Aulus and all the Romans knew how Castor and Pollux, the twin
heroes, had heard his prayer, and had fought for the Romans, and had
vanquished their enemies, and had been the first to break into the
enemies’ camp, and had themselves, with more than mortal speed, borne
the tidings of their victory to Rome. So Aulus built a temple according
to his vow to Castor and Pollux, and gave rich offerings, for he said,
“These are the rewards which I promised to the two who should first break
into the enemies’ camp; and the twin heroes have won them, and they and
no mortal men have won the battle for Rome this day.”
So perished the house of the Tarquinii, in the great battle by the
lake Regillus, and all the sons of King Tarquinius, and his son-in-law
Octavius Mamilius, were slain on that battle-field. Thus King Tarquinius
saw the ruin of all his family and of all his house, and he was left
alone, utterly without hope. So he went to Cumæ, a city of the Greeks,
and there he died. And thus the deeds of Tarquinius and of the wicked
Tullia, and of Sextus their son, were visited upon their own heads; and
the Romans lived in peace, and none threatened their freedom any more.[b]
Before leaving the Roman monarchy it is necessary to give a critical
discussion of the myths of the kings as well as an estimate of their
historical value. To do this we draw upon two of the most famous students
of this period, Schwegler[c] and Otto Gilbert.[d]
THE MYTHS OF THE ROMAN KINGS CRITICALLY EXAMINED
Against Schlegel[h] we have maintained the position that, in the first
place, the traditional history of primitive Rome was not the work of a
Greek but an indigenous product of Roman national life,[8] in the second,
that in its original form it was not the product of any literary activity
whatever; against Niebuhr[f] that it is not a creation of popular poetry
but a result of deliberate reflection. The process by which it came into
being we may conclude--conjecturally, of course--to have been as follows.
The genuine and veracious tradition of the foundation and earliest
fortunes of Rome seems to have soon perished--if indeed it ever existed.
This could hardly have been otherwise. It had neither been safeguarded
against destruction or travesty by written records, nor cast into fixed
traditional form, in song at least, by becoming the subject of popular
poetry; and it was therefore in the nature of things that during the
course of generations it should pass into silence and oblivion.
It is possible--it is even probable--that as far back as the decemvirate
the Romans had no trustworthy information concerning the origin of their
city. But they did not rest content in their ignorance. They felt the
need of affirming something definite about that period and those events
none the less strongly for their lack of historical knowledge, and on
the foundation of dim memories and isolated legends that had survived,
of proper names, monuments, institutions, and customs, they therefore
elaborated a superstructure of history to supply the gaps of tradition.
There is not the slightest suggestion of conscious deceit or deliberate
falsification of history in this; on the contrary they held in good
faith that in these tales they had made successful guesses at the actual
facts and thus reconstructed the original story--a naïve proceeding
characteristic of myth-invention in general.
It is obvious that a history made up in this artificial fashion would not
start as the connected whole presented to us in Roman historical works;
this whole, in which the legend of the settlement of Æneas is brought
into circumstantial relation with the founding and history of Alba Longa,
and the dynasty of the Alban kings with the founding of Rome, so that the
history of Rome and that of the antecedent period from the landing of
Æneas to the fall of the younger Tarquin are held together by an unbroken
thread of continuous historical narrative--this systematised whole must
naturally have come into existence by a process of linking and welding
together, the result, in part no doubt, of literary effort and reflection.
[Illustration: A ROMAN OFFICER
(After Vecellio)]
If we resolve this history into its component parts and examine each of
these parts separately as to its origin and genetic motive, we perceive
that the Roman legends and traditions take origin from very diverse
sources and demand very diverse explanations.
First of all, we cannot but recognise that certain fundamental facts in
the traditional history of the monarchy are historically true and derived
from historical reminiscence. The memory of the most vital moments in the
development of the Roman constitution survived, though much confused,
down to the age of written records. Hence we cannot refuse a certain
amount of credence to traditions relating to public law. The double state
formed by the union of Romans and Sabines, the three original tribes,
the succession in which they originated, the three centuries of knights,
the successive augmentations of the senate till it reached the number
of three hundred, the rise of a plebeian class,[9] the creation of the
inferior _gentes_, the introduction of the censorship, the fall of the
monarchy, and the establishment of the republic--these fundamental facts
of early constitutional history are in all likelihood historical in
essence, even though the circumstantial details (more particularly the
estimates of numbers) with which they are adorned and the relation of
cause and effect in which they are placed by the historian may be due to
the ingenuity, or construed according to the opinion, of posterity. Round
this stock of fact, however, has twined a luxuriant growth of fiction,
a garland of legend, the origin of which we will forthwith proceed to
examine, and so exhibit it in the germ.
A distinction is generally and rightly drawn between legend and myth. The
legend is a reminiscence of remarkable events transmitted from generation
to generation by oral tradition, especially by means of popular poetry,
tinged with the marvellous by the imaginative faculty, more or less
arbitrarily, though without conscious intention. The myth is the exact
opposite. Where the legend has a kernel of historic fact, merely adorned
and exaggerated by the accompaniment of fiction, the kernel and genetic
motive of the myth is, on the contrary, a particular idea, and the facts
of the story are merely the medium or material used by the poet to set
forth and impress this idea.
If we consider the primitive history of Rome from this point of view
we cannot deny that it contains both legends and myths, according to
the definition just given. To take some examples--the heroic deeds of
a Horatius Cocles, a Mucius Scævola, or a Clœlia, may rank as legends;
Brutus is a legendary figure; the battle of Lake Regillus is coloured
with the hues of legend; as are Coriolanus’ career of conquest, the
destruction of the Fabii; and the march of Cincinnatus to Mount Algidus.
On the other hand, we have a specimen of the myth in the begetting of
Servius Tullius by the tutelary god of the Regia, a myth which expresses
the idea that in this king the inmost spirit of the Roman monarchy was
embodied.
A pure myth, again, and one which takes its rise from nature-symbolism,
is the battle of Hercules (_i.e._, of Sancus the sky-god) with Cacus who
belches forth fire and smoke. We have an instance of the historic myth
in that which refers the disparate elements of Roman national character,
in which military and political capacity were so curiously blended with
religious superstition, to the disparate personality of the two original
founders of Rome, the one a military ruler, regulating the state and
military affairs, the other a prince of peace, regulating the religion
and the worship of the gods.
But the majority of Roman traditions fall neither under the definition
of legend nor of purely notional myth. Most of these traditions are what
we may call ætiological myths, that is to say, they relate events and
transactions which have been devised or worked up to explain genetically
some present fact, the existence or the name of a ceremony, a custom,
a cult, an institution, a locality, a monument, a sanctuary, and so
forth. The ætiological myth is a curious variety of the myth proper.
It is a myth in so far as the actual occurrences which it narrates are
pure invention, but it differs from the genuine myth in this, that its
starting-point and motive is not an idea or mental conception, but some
external accident which the narrative is intended to show cause for and
explain.
Ætiological myths are primitive, and for the most part puerile attempts
at historical hypothesis. The early history of Rome is very rich in
ætiological myths of this sort; the settlement of Evander, the presence
of Hercules in Rome, the story concerning the Potitii and Pinarii, the
Nautians taking charge of and rescuing the Palladium, the sow with the
litter of thirty, the rape of the Sabines, the fair one of Talassius,
the fable of the Tarpeian, the foundation of the temple of Jupiter
stator, the legends concerning the origin of the name of Lacus Curtius,
the miracle of Attus Navius, and other legends of the same character may
serve as examples, and will be explained from this point of view in the
course of the present inquiry. Plutarch’s[e] _Roman Questions_ is a rich
and instructive collection of such ætiological myths.
A sub-variety of the ætiological myth is the etymological myth, which
takes as its starting-point a particular proper name and tries to explain
the origin of it by a substructure of actual fact. The primitive history
of Rome is rich in myths of this class also, and a multitude of the
fables contained in it have been spun out of proper names. Such are the
fables of Argos, Evander’s host; of the Argive colony in Rome; of the
birth of Silvius Postumus in the forest; of the relations between the
good Evander and the evil Cacus; the suckling of Romulus; the relation of
the sucklings to the sacred fig-tree (_Ficus ruminalis_), the pretended
origin of the Fossa Cluilia; the origin of the Tarquins from Tarquinii;
the discovery of the head of Olus; the birth of Servius Tullius from a
slave girl; the building of the Tullianum by the king of that name; the
imbecility of Brutus; the burning of Scævola’s right hand; the conquest
of Corioli by Coriolanus; and so forth.
There is another variety of Roman legend which must be distinguished from
the ætiological and etymological myth: the legend which may be described
as the mythic garb of actual conditions and events, and which thus stands
midway between legend and myth. To this class belong, for example, the
legend of the Sibyl who comes to Rome in the time of the younger Tarquin,
and would have him buy nine books of divine prophecies for a great price,
and who, being mocked by him, burns three books before his eyes, and yet
another three, and finally sells the three remaining books to the king
for the price she had asked at the beginning. There is not the slightest
doubt that this legend is based on a substratum of fact, the fact that
the Sibylline prophecies were probably brought from Cumæ to Rome under
the second Tarquin, but this fact is clothed in a garb of poetical
fiction; it is a cross between legend and myth. The same may hold good
of the number of the Roman kings; these seven kings stand for and figure
forth the seven fundamental facts of the ancient (pre-republican) history
of Rome which have been held in historic remembrance.
Generally speaking, indeed, it is the peculiar and distinguishing
characteristic of Roman myths that they are not, as a rule, pure
inventions, not creations of the fancy, not, above all, like most of
the tales of Greek mythology, myths based on natural philosophy or on
nature-symbolism, but that they are historical myths, that a certain
contemplation of actual conditions and real events lies at the bottom of
them, either as the genetic motive or the raw material of the narrative.
For instance, the figures of Romulus and Tatius are in themselves
mythical; they never really existed, but the twofold sway ascribed to
them has nevertheless something of historic truth in it; it is the
mythical expression of actual historic conditions, the twofold state of
the united Latins and Sabines. The same criticism applies to the conflict
of Tarquinius Priscus with the augur Attus Navius; in the form in which
it has been handed down it can hardly be historical; the story of the
whetstone is a manifest fable, but none the less a real occurrence is
imaged in it--namely, the historical conflict between the pre-Tarquinian
hierarchy and the political ideas of the Tarquinian dynasty. In this
way most of the myths and legends of primitive Roman history contain a
deposit of historic memories and views, which can be recovered if each
myth is traced back to the general fundamental conception which forms its
genetic motive.
It should hardly be necessary to vindicate this view of primitive Roman
history, and of the myth in general, against such objections as have
recently been brought forward, as when the objectors profess to find
the “frivolity” and the “vain and idle play of fancy” displayed in
such myth-invention incompatible with the severity of manners and the
practical genius of the old Roman races. These objections would only hit
the mark if the myths were arbitrary and conscious inventions--if they
were deliberate falsehoods. But this is so little their character that
we may rather say that they are the only language in which a race in
a certain stage of civilisation could give expression to its thoughts
and ideas. For example, at the stage which the Roman people had reached
when the myth was invented, they had no vocabulary which could have
furnished them with a definite and exhaustive exposition of the conflict
between Tarquinian and pre-Tarquinian ideas in the body politic; and they
therefore had recourse to the expedient of symbolising that conflict and
the course of events connected with it, and presenting them in a single
significant scene, a scene which, regarded empirically, is certainly
non-historic, but which is nevertheless at bottom historically true.
Let us imagine any people feeling, in a particular stage of civilisation,
the need of contemplating its original character, of forming a mental
image of primitive conditions concerning which it has no historical
knowledge, of basing its political and religious traditions upon their
first causes--how can it satisfy this need except by myth-invention? As
long as it is not intellectually mature enough to advance the statements
which, on the basis of its present consciousness, it makes concerning
its origin as historical hypotheses, it must of necessity express these
statements in symbolical form, that is, in the language of myth.
In the foregoing pages we have shown the various motives and modes of
origin of the Roman legends and traditions. The legends which originated
in these ways were then spun out and linked together by rational
reflection; and thus there gradually came into being the whole body of
legendary lore which the Roman historians found ready to their hand and
set down in writing. The legend of Silvius Postumus, the ancestor of
the Alban Silvii, may serve as an example of this spinning-out process.
This Silvius, the story goes, was so-called because he was born in
the forest--evidently an etymological myth. Therefore, the deduction
proceeds, at the time of his birth his mother Lavinia must have been
sojourning in the forest; therefore, she must have fled thither,
presumably after the death of her husband Æneas; therefore, probably in
fear of her stepson Ascanius.
It is obvious that all these statements are not founded upon tradition
but are mere sophistries. Similarly, the legend of the reputed origin
of Rome from a mixed rabble, and the tale that for this reason the
ambassadors whom Romulus sent with offers of connubium (the right to
intermarry) to the neighbouring peoples were repulsed with scornful
words, is certainly based on nothing but deductions and conclusions drawn
from the (purely mythical) story of the rape of the Sabines. Again, the
despotic power which Romulus is said to have exercised in the latter
years of his reign, and the bodyguard with which he surrounded himself,
seem to be mere inferences drawn from the legend (likewise mythical in
origin) of the tearing of his body piecemeal, to serve as an explanation
for that enigmatical proceeding.
It is self-evident that it would be impossible to clear up every single
point of the traditional history; but the mode of origin of the whole
will have been made sufficiently plain by the foregoing observations.[c]
_The Historical Value of the Myths_
Although as we proceed with critical examination we find abundant
confirmation of a general kind for the assumption that the names of
the Roman kings correspond severally to a like number of originally
independent communities, it is nevertheless necessary to note at this
stage more precisely a hypothesis which is of the greatest moment and
consequence in the consideration and investigation of the early history
of the city.
In the first place, there can be no doubt that the Tarquins are real
historical personages, and must therefore be conceived of in quite
another fashion than the more ancient figures about which the various
genealogical legends centre, and whose historical existence is due
to personification alone. By adding their names to the older names
the pontifices arbitrarily connected two entirely different elements,
which ought in reality to be kept quite apart. The more ancient figures
only--Romulus, Titus Tatius, Tullus Hostilius, Ancus Marcius, and Servius
Tullius--are personifications, and of them only does the statement
hold good that they are the representatives of diverse and distinct
communities and of diverse elements of nationality. Here as everywhere
legend and history meet and mingle, combining into a single line
personifications and genuine historical figures, which were originally
cognate but not equivalent ideas.
As for the actual names of the kings, they, as we shall presently see
in individual cases, are either the real names of the communities
personified, or appellations taken from special conditions which
characterised such communities; they always furnish some pregnant hint
concerning the nature of the people personified. It is easy to understand
how these names would ultimately stand forth as the names of kings: the
“king” was the representative of the community before gods and men, and
the nation, if personified, would naturally appear in the status and
dignity of its legal representative. Accordingly, in the several Roman
kings we must recognise a representation of the several communities under
kingly rule which went to make up Rome, set forth under the figure of
separate reigning monarchs.
Firmly as we must now hold to the kernel of historic truth underlying
these regal figures, we must not disregard the possibility that they have
been disguised, overlaid, and distorted, to a very great extent, by a
quantity of extraneous accessories, mythical and fictitious.
The first point which we must bear in mind is that every legend of a
nation, race, or community, is intimately connected with the religion of
that nation or race. In other words, the legends of the ancestral hero,
the eponym, tend to be confounded with the myths of the tribal divinity
in course of time, the latter are set to the credit (in part at least) of
the hero of the former, and the residuum of actual historic fact in the
legend becomes more and more distorted and confused. This holds good in
the case of the Roman kings. In considering them therefore these mythical
elements must be discarded and left out of account.
We are next confronted by a unanimous tendency to make the kings,
_i.e._ the communities personified in them, appear as Romans from the
outset. The tendency is comprehensible: the name Roman took its rise
originally from one community, but in the course of time it had become an
honourable title common to all, the descriptive cognomen of all citizens
of the conjoint city, and every man desired to pose as a Roman of the
old stock, a good citizen of the Roman commonwealth. This was, however,
in direct contravention of history. The greater number of these kings,
_i.e._ of these communities, were in reality originally strangers or
even enemies, the destiny of the city had frequently accomplished itself
through deadly feuds and bloody battles, and if it had been thought
desirable to insist on these facts the ancient history of the city would
have worn a very different aspect from that with which we are familiar.
But in that case a very questionable light would have been thrown on most
of the elements out of which it had grown; and hence there was naturally
a general endeavour to obliterate the traces of ancient conflict. The
remembrance of those old-world struggles was intentionally confused,
or effaced by fictitious additions, modified by tradition, or rejected
altogether.
In the only, or almost the only version in which it is known to us, the
picture drawn by later hands of the most ancient history of Rome, both
of the monarchy and the early days of the republic, conveys no hint, or
at least only the remotest, of the crises which the city and state must
have passed through before taking the form in which it became the basis
of a common life and activity to all elements of the community alike. The
attitude assumed by this false patriotism is chiefly responsible for the
falsification of the earlier history, especially the records connected
with the names of the kings.
Again, a third force which we must take into consideration as exercising
a dubious influence on the form into which the primitive history of the
city was cast, is the singular love of combination which distinguished
the Roman priests and antiquaries. The true and original meaning of the
ancient traditions, institutions, and antiquated terms in civil and
ecclesiastical law, had passed out of mind in the lapse of years, and yet
there was a general desire for enlightenment and a right understanding
of these things. Whereupon sacerdotal wisdom, which seldom rose above
the level of the schoolboy, combined with an absolute freedom, nay, an
amazing boldness of arbitrary interpretation, and attempted by this
means to render the ancient and extinct legends, institutions, and
ideas, clear and comprehensible. From its confined point of view the
most superficial likenesses, the most trivial relations, were naturally
the most highly favoured in the interpretation of these traditions,
ideas, and institutions. Above all, we must lay stress in this connection
upon the incredible passion of these exponents for etymology. The
remotest assonance of words or phrases sufficed to bring the underlying
ideas into connection in their minds and to make them derive the one
circumstantially from the other. These combinations and interpretations
are handed on to us by antiquaries who either made them out for
themselves or borrowed them as authoritative explanations and definitions
from the priestly circles, or the writings of pontifices, augurs, etc.
In every single case the keenest critical acumen is required to separate
these manufactured combinations and deductions from the genuine deposit
of older traditions.
Finally we must mention, as the last force which contributed to the
distortion of primitive Roman history, the unbounded vaingloriousness of
later times. The Romans suffered--the expression is permissible--from
the vastness of the proportions of their state and city at a subsequent
period. Theoretically they could still persuade themselves and believe
that Rome had once been small, but the realisation of the fact in
practical detail was beyond them. Thus, in the idea of the city
current in later days, it appears as a metropolis from the time of its
foundation; the peasant fights become mighty wars skilfully conducted
between powerful states and cities, detail and colour being provided
by the observation and technical knowledge of a later date. Before
attempting to explain the conditions of the Roman monarchy we must
therefore always reduce them from the scale on which they are presented
to us in this picture to the scale which really befits their original
proportions. The gradual rise of the city, its inception and growth step
by step from the federal union of villages and settlements, must first be
sought for and studied in such instances as have remained free from the
influence of sacerdotal handling and vainglory.[d]
FOOTNOTES
[8] [In his desire to claim an origin for Roman legends separate from the
Greek, Schwegler exaggerates the position of his opponent. In his lecture
on _The Influence of the Greeks over the Romans_, Schlegel repeatedly
admits that the debt of Rome to Greece for legendary material does not
imply a total absence of original Roman matter.]
[9] [Myth, or tradition, however, represents the plebeian class as
existing from the beginning of the city, though most modern writers have
assumed that the plebs rose later as a class of aliens or conquered
slaves.]
[Illustration: COSTUME OF AN ETRUSCAN WOMAN OF THE UPPER CLASS
(Based on Racinet)]
[Illustration]