At the moment a war was imminent, and the forum--the entire city, in

fact--already excited, was filled with the uproar of the angry

plebeians. Many confined for debt broke from their prison houses, and

ran from all quarters into the crowds to claim protection. The majesty

of the consuls was insufficient to preserve order, and while the

discord was rapidly increasing, horsemen rushed into the gates

announcing that an enemy was actually upon them, marching to besiege

the city. The plebeians saw that their opportunity had arrived, and

when proud Appius Claudius called upon them to enroll their names for

the war, they refused the summons, saying that the patricians might

fight their own battles; that for themselves it was better to perish

together at home rather than to go to the field and die separated.

Threatened with war beyond the gates, and with riot at home, the

patricians were forced to promise to redress the civil grievances. It

was ordered that no one could seize or sell the goods of a soldier

while he was in camp, or arrest his children or grandchildren, and that

no one should detain a citizen in prison or in chains, so as to hinder

him from enlisting in the army. When this was known, the released

prisoners volunteered in numbers, and entered upon the war with

enthusiasm. The legions were victorious, and when peace was declared,

the plebeians anxiously looked for the ratification of the promises

made to them.

Their expectations were disappointed. They had, however, seen their

power, and were determined to act upon their new knowledge. Without

undue haste, they protected their homes on the Aventine, and retreated

the next year to a mountain across the Anio, about three miles from the

city, to a spot which afterwards held a place in the memories of the

Romans similar to that which the green meadow on the Thames called

Runnymede has held in British history since the June day when King John

met his commons there, and gave them the great charter of their

liberties.

The plebeians said calmly that they would no longer be imposed upon;

that not one of them would thereafter enlist for a war until the public

faith were made good. They reiterated the declaration that the lords

might fight their own battles, so that the perils of conflict should

lie where its advantages were. When the situation of affairs was

thoroughly understood, Rome was on fire with anxiety, and the enforced

suspense filled the citizens with fear lest an external enemy should

take the opportunity for a successful onset upon the city. Meanwhile

the poor secessionists fortified their camp, but carefully refrained

from actual war. The people left in the city feared the senators, and

the senators in turn dreaded the citizens lest they should do them

violence. It was a time of panic and suspense. After consultation, good

counsels prevailed in the senate, and it was resolved to send an

embassy to the despised and down-trodden plebeians, who now seemed,

however, to hold the balance of power, and to treat for peace, for

there could be no security until the secessionists had returned to

their homes.

The spokesman on the occasion was Menenius Agrippa Lanatus, who was

popular with the people and had a reputation for eloquence. In the

course of his argument he related the famous apologue which Shakespeare

has so admirably used in his first Roman play. He said:

"At a time when all the parts of the body did not, as now, agree

together, but the several members had each its own scheme, its own

language, the other parts, indignant that every thing was procured for

the belly by their care, labor, and service, and that it, remaining

quiet in the centre, did nothing but enjoy the pleasures afforded it,

conspired that the hands should not convey food to the mouth, nor the

mouth receive it when presented, nor the teeth chew it. They wished by

these measures to subdue the belly by famine, but, to their dismay,

they found that they themselves and the entire body were reduced to the

last degree of emaciation. It then became apparent that the service of

the belly was by no means a slothful one; that it did not so much

receive nourishment as supply it, sending to all parts of the body that

blood by which the entire system lived in vigor."

Lanatus then applied the fable to the body politic, showing that all

the citizens must work in unity if its greatest welfare is to be

attained. The address of this good man had its desired effect, and the

people were at last willing to listen to a proposition for their

return. It was settled that there should be a general release of all

those who had been handed over to their creditors, and a cancelling of

debts, and that two of the plebeians should be selected as their

protectors, with power to veto objectionable laws, their persons being

as inviolable at all times as were those of the sacred messengers of

the gods. These demands, showing that the plebeians did not seek

political power, were agreed to, the Valerian laws were reaffirmed, and

a solemn treaty was concluded, each party swearing for itself and its

posterity, with all the formality of representatives of foreign

nations. The two leaders of the commons, Caius Licinius and Lucius

Albinius, were elected the first Tribunes of the People, as the new

officers were called, with two Ædiles to aid them. [Footnote: The

duties of the ædiles were various, and at first they were simple

assistants of the tribunes. _Ædes_ means house or temple, and the

ædiles seem to have derived their name from the fact that they had the

care of the temple of Ceres, goddess of agriculture, a very important

divinity in Rome as well as in Greece.] They were not to leave the city

during their term of office; their doors being open day and night, that

all who needed their protection might have access to them. The hill

upon which this treaty had been concluded was ever after known as the

Sacred Mount; its top was enclosed and consecrated, an altar being

built upon it, on which sacrifices were offered to Jupiter, the god of

terror and deliverance, who had allowed the commons to return home in

safety, though they had gone out in trepidation. Henceforth the commons

were to be protected; they were better fitted to share the honors as

well as the benefits of their country, and the threatened dissolution

of the nation was averted.

Towards the end of the year, Lanatus, the successful intercessor, died,

and it was found that his poverty was so great that none but the most

ordinary funeral could be afforded. Thereupon the plebeians contributed

enough to give him a splendid burial; but the sum was afterwards

presented to his children, because the senate decreed that the funeral

expenses should be defrayed by the state. (B.C. 494.)

VII.

HOW THE HEROES FOUGHT FOR A HUNDRED YEARS.

There is a long story connected with the young stripling who, at the

battle of Lake Regillus received the oaken crown for saving the life of

a Roman citizen. The century after that event was filled with wars with

the neighboring peoples, and in one of them this same Caius Marcius

fought so bravely at the taking of the Latin town of Corioli that he

was ever after known as Coriolanus (B.C. 493). He was a proud

patrician, and on one occasion when he was candidate for the office of

consul, behaved with so much unnecessary haughtiness toward the

plebeians that they refused him their votes. [Footnote: The whole

interesting story is found in Plutarch's Lives, and in Shakespeare's

play which bears the hero's name.] After a while a famine came to

Rome,--famines often came there,--and though in a former emergency of

the kind Coriolanus had himself obtained corn and beef for the people,

he was now so irritated by his defeat that when a contribution of grain

arrived from Syracuse, in Sicily (B.C. 491), he actually advocated that

it should not be distributed among the people unless they would consent

to give up their tribunes which had been assured to them by the laws of

the Sacred Mount! This enraged the plebeians very much, and they caused

Coriolanus to be summoned for trial before the comitia of the tribes,

which body, in spite of his acknowledged services to the state,

condemned him to exile. When he heard this sentence, Coriolanus angrily

determined to cast in his lot with his old enemies the Volscians, and

raised an army for them with which he marched victoriously towards

Rome. As he went, he destroyed the property of the plebeians, but

preserved that of the patricians. The people were in the direst state

of anxious fear, and some of the senators were sent out to plead with

the dreaded warrior for the safety of the city. These venerable

ambassadors were repelled with scorn. Again, the sacred priests and

augurs were deputed to make the petition, this time in the name of the

gods of the people; but, alas, they too entreated in vain. Then it was

remembered that the stern man had always reverenced his mother, and she

with an array of matrons, accompanied by the little ones of Coriolanus,

went out to add their efforts to those which had failed. As they

appeared, Coriolanus exclaimed, as Shakespeare put it:

"I melt, and am not

Of stronger earth than others.--My mother bows;

As if Olympus to a molehill should

In supplication nod; and my young boy

Hath an aspect of intercession, which,

Great Nature cries: 'Deny not.' Let the Volsces

Plow Rome and harrow Italy; I'll never

Be such a gosling to obey instinct; but stand,

As if a man were author of himself,

And knew no other kin!"*

The strong man is finally melted, however, by the soft influences of

the women, and as he yields, says to them:

"Ladies, you deserve

To have a temple built you; all the swords

In Italy, and her confederate arms,

Could not have made this peace!"

A temple was accordingly built in memory of this event, and in honor of

Feminine Fortune, at the request of the women of Rome, for the senate

had decreed that any wish they might express should be gratified. As

for Coriolanus, he is said to have lived long in banishment, bewailing

his misfortune, and saying that exile bore heavily on an old man. The

entire story, heroic and tragic as it is related to us, is not

substantiated, and we do not really know whether if true it should be

assigned to the year 488 B.C., or to a date a score of years later.

During all the century we are now considering, the plebeians were

slowly gaining ground in their attempts to improve their political

condition, though they did not fail to meet rebuffs, and though they

were many times unjustly treated by their proud opponents. These

efforts at home were complicated, too, by the fact that nearly all the

time there was war with one or another of the adjoining nations.

Treaties were made at this period with some of the neighboring peoples,

by a good friend of the plebeians, Spurius Cassius, who was consul in

the year 486, and these to a certain extent repaired the losses that

had followed the war with Porsena after the fall of the Tarquins.

Cassius tried to strengthen the state internally, too, by dividing

certain lands among the people, and by requiring rents to be paid for

other tracts, and setting the receipts aside to pay the commons when

they should be called out as soldiers. This is known as the first of

the many Agrarian Laws (_ager_, a meadow, a field) that are recorded in

Roman history, though something of the same nature is said to have

existed in the days of Servius Tullius.

There were public and private lands in Roman territory, just as there

are in the territory of the United States, and in those days, just as

in our own, there were "squatters," as they have been called in our

history, who settled upon public lands without right, and without

paying any thing to the government for the privileges they enjoyed.

Laws regulating the use and ownership of the public lands were passed

from time to time until Julius Cæsar (B.C. 59) enacted the last. They

had for their object the relief of poverty and the stopping of the

clamors of the poor, the settling of remote portions of territory, the

rewarding of soldiers, or the extension of the popularity of some

general or other leader. The plan was not efficient in developing the

country, because those to whom the land was allotted were often not at

all adapted to pursue agriculture successfully, and because the evils

of poverty are not to be met in that way.

It was a sign of the power of the people that this proposition of

Cassius should have been successful; but it irritated the patricians

exceedingly, because they had derived large wealth from the improper

use of the public lands. The following year consuls came into power who

were more in sympathy with the patricians, and they accused Cassius of

laying plans to be made king. His popularity was undermined, and his

reputation blasted. Finally he was declared guilty of treason by his

enemies, and condemned to be scourged and beheaded, while his house was

razed to the ground. For seven years after this one of the consuls was

always a member of the powerful family of the Fabii, which had been

influential in thus overthrowing Cassius. The Fabians had opposed the

laws dividing the lands, and they now refused to carry them out. The

result was that the commons, deprived of their rights, again went to

the extreme of refusing to fight for the state; and when on one

occasion they were brought face to face with an enemy, they refused to

conquer when they had victory in their hands. A little later they went

one step further, and attempted to stop entirely the raising of an

army. One of the patrician family just mentioned, Marcus Fabius, proved

too noble willingly to permit such strife between the classes to

interfere with the progress of the state, and determined to conciliate

the commons. He succeeded, and led them to battle, and, though his army

won victory, was himself killed in the combat (B.C. 481). The other

members of the family took up the cause, cared kindly for the wounded,

and thus still further ingratiated themselves with the army. The next

year (B.C. 480) another Fabian was consul, and he too determined to

stand up for the laws of Spurius Cassius. He was treated with scorn by

his fellow patricians, and finding that he could not carry out his

principles and live at peace in Rome, determined to exile himself.

Going out with his followers, he established a camp on the side of the

river Cremera, a few miles above Rome, and alone carried on a war

against the fortified city of Veii. The unequal strife was continued

for two years; but then the brave family was completely cut off. There

was not a member left, excepting one who seems to have refused to

renounce the former opinions of the family, and had remained at Rome

[Footnote: The Fabii were cut off on the Cremera on the 16th of July, a

day afterwards marked by a terrible battle on the Allia, in which the

Gauls defeated the Romans.] (B.C. 477). He became the ancestor of the

Fabii of after-history.

The support thus received from the aristocratic Fabii encouraged the

commons, and the sacrifice of the family exasperated them. They felt

anew that it was possible for them to exert some power in the state,

and they promptly accused one of the consuls, Titus Menenius, of

treason, because he had allowed his army to lie inactive near Cremera

while the Fabii were cut off before him. Menenius was found guilty, and

died of vexation and shame. The aristocrats now attempted to frighten

the commons by treachery and assassination, and succeeded, until one,

Volero Publilius, arose and took their part. He boldly proposed a law

by which the tribunes of the people, instead of being chosen by the

comitia of the centuries, in which, as we have seen, the aristocrats

had the advantage, should be chosen by the comitia of the tribes, in

which there was no such inferiority of the commons. Though violently

opposed by the patricians, this law was passed, in the year 471 B.C.

Other measures were, however, still necessary to give the plebeians a

satisfactory position in the state.

In the year 458, the ancient tribe of the Æquians came down upon Rome,

and taking up a position upon Mount Algidus, just beyond Alba Longa,

repulsed an army sent against them, and surrounded its camp. We can

imagine the clattering of the hoofs on the hard stones of the Via

Latina as five anxious messengers, who had managed to escape before it

was too late, hurried to Rome to carry the disheartening news. All eyes

immediately turned in one direction for help. There lived just across

the Tiber a member of an old aristocratic family, one Lucius Quintius,

better known as Cincinnatus, because that name had been added to his

others to show that he wore his hair long and in curls. Lucius was

promptly appointed Dictator--that is, he was offered supreme authority

over all the state,--and messengers were sent to ask him to accept the

direction of affairs. He was found at work on his little farm, which

comprised only four jugera, either digging or plowing, and after he had

sent for his toga, or outer garment, which he had thrown off for

convenience in working, and had put it on, he listened to the message,

and accepted the responsibility. The next morning he appeared on the

forum by daylight, like an early rising farmer, and issued orders that

no one should attend to private business, but that all men of proper

age should meet him on the field of Mars by sunset with food sufficient

for five days. At the appointed hour the army was ready, and, so

rapidly did it march, that before midnight the camp of the enemy was

reached. The Æquians, not expecting such promptness, were astonished to

hear a great shout, and to find themselves shut up between two Roman

armies, both of which advanced and successfully hemmed them in. They

were thus forced to surrender, and Cincinnatus obliged them to pass

under the yoke, in token of subjugation. (_Sub_, under, _jugum_, a

yoke.) The yoke in this case was made of two spears fastened upright in

the ground with a third across them at the top. In the short space of

twenty-four hours, Lucius Quintius Cincinnatus raised an army, defeated

an enemy, and laid down his authority as dictator! It was decreed that

he should enter the city in triumph. He rode in his chariot through the

streets, the rejoicing inhabitants spreading tables in front of their

houses, laden with meat and drink for the soldiers. The defeated chiefs

walked before the victor, and after them followed the standards that

had been won, while still farther behind were the soldiers, bearing the

rich spoils. It was customary in those days for a conqueror to take

every thing from the poor people whom he had vanquished,--homes, lands,

cattle, wealth of every sort,--and then even to carry the men, women,

and children away into slavery themselves. Thus a subjugated country

became a desolation, unless the conquerors sent settlers to occupy the

vacant homes and cultivate the neglected farms. Bad and frightful as

war is now, it is not conducted on such terrible principles as were

followed in early times.

Though from time to time concessions were made to the commons, they

continued to feel that they were deprived of many of their just

political rights, and the antagonism remained lively between them and

the patricians. The distresses that they suffered were real, and

endured even for two centuries after the time assigned to Coriolanus.

We have now, indeed, arrived at a period of their sore trial, though it

was preceded by some events that seemed to promise them good. In the

year 454, Lucius Icilius, one of the tribunes of the people, managed to

have the whole of the Aventine Hill given up to them, and as it was,

after the Capitoline, the strongest of all the seven, their political

importance was of course increased. It was but a few years later (B.C.

451) when, according to tradition, after long and violent debates it

was decided that a commission should be sent to Athens, or to some

colony of the Greeks, to learn what they could from the principles of

government adopted by that ancient and wise people, which was then at

the very height of its prosperity and fame. After this commission had

made its report (in the year B.C. 450), all the important magistrates,

including the consuls, tribunes, and ædiles, were replaced by ten

patricians, known as Decemvirs (_decem_, ten, _vir_, a man), appointed

to prepare a new code of laws.

The chief of this body was an Appius Claudius, son of the haughty

patrician of the same name, and equally as haughty as he ever was. The

laws of Rome before this time had been in a mixed condition, partly

written and partly unwritten and traditional; but now all were to be

reduced to order, and incorporated with those two laws that could not

be touched--that giving the Aventine to the plebeians, and the sacred

law settled on the Roman Runnymede after the first secession to the

Sacred Mount. After a few months the ten men produced ten laws, which

were written out and set up in public places for the people to read and

criticise. Suggestions for alterations might be made, and if the ten

men approved them, they made them a part of their report, after which

all was submitted to the senate and the curiæ, and finally approved.

The whole code of laws was then engraved on ten tables of enduring

brass and put up in the comitium, where all might see them and have no

excuse for not obeying them.

We do not know exactly what all these laws were, but enough has come

down to us to make it clear that they were drawn up with great

fairness, because they met the expectations of the people; and this

shows, of course, that the political power of the plebeians was now

considerable, because ten patricians would not have made the laws fair,

unless there had been a strong influence exerted over them, obliging

them to be careful in their action. The ten had acted so well, indeed,

that it was thought safe and advisable to continue the government in

the same form for another year. This proved a mistake, for Appius

managed to gain so much influence that he was the only one of the

original ten who was re-elected, and he was able also to cause nine

others to be chosen with him who were weak men, whom he felt sure that

he could control. When the new decemvirs came into power, they soon

added two new laws to the original ten, and the whole are now known,

therefore, as the "Twelve Tables." The additional laws proved so

distasteful to the people that they were much irritated, and seemed

ready to revolt against the government on the slightest provocation.

The decemvirs became exceedingly ostentatious and haughty, too, in

their bearing, as well as tyrannical in their acts, so that the city

was all excitement and opposition to the government that a few weeks

before had been liked so well. Nothing was needed to bring about an

outbreak except a good excuse, and that was not long waited for.

Nations do not often have to wait long for a cause for fighting, if

they want to find one.

The Story of Rome from the Earliest Times to the End of the Republic · 第 5 / 19 段