nations; hence they were called Tyrrhenians by Greek authors; but even
their own names had different forms, for they are called _Lavini_ and no
doubt also _Lacini_. The ancient national name Lavini gave rise to the
story that Latinus had a brother Lavinus, and that the latter gave the
name to the town of Lavinium—a statement which was adopted by those who
would not derive the name of the town from Lavinia. This view of the
matter at once explains that which puzzled the grammarians, and which
our wretched epitomes of the commentaries on the Aeneid cannot solve.
Namely, Virgil often speaks of _litora Lavina_ and _arva Lavinia_ before
the arrival of Aeneas in Italy, because he entertained the notion that
the name _Latini_ arose afterwards from the union of the Trojans and
Aborigines; hence he took the poetical form _Lavinus_. In like manner,
Virgil, in his catalogue, at the end of the seventh book, when speaking
of the tribes of Latium, says _picti scuta Lavici_, which has always
been referred to the town of Lavici in Latium, which was called after
its inhabitants; but we cannot take this as the name of a town, as both
before and after tribes only are mentioned, and _Lavici_ there is nothing
else than Latini. There can be no doubt that they were also called
_Lacini_. King Latinus is in some traditions called Lacinus, and under
this name he was transferred to southern Italy. This is one of the points
which are not sufficiently attended to in the grammatical study of the
Latin language. It is indeed very difficult to speak of these matters,
as we have so few authentic remains of the ancient Latin dialects, and
even the very name “Latin dialects” sounds strange to us, for they
are mentioned only by the most ancient among the Latin grammarians.
We find it stated, for example, that the Praenestines had a peculiar
pronunciation. There can be no doubt that the Latins had their different
dialects, though the differences were not so strongly marked as in Greek.
The Oscan and several dialects to which the Oscan approached more or
less, were kindred languages of the Latin. I hope that more light may be
thrown upon this subject, especially by means of inscriptions; several
have already been discovered, which I have succeeded in explaining;
some exist at Pompeii and Herculaneum, and still more will no doubt be
discovered. The Oscan is a language which stands to the Latin in nearly
the same relation as that in which the Cretan (which we know, e.g., from
inscriptions of Hierapytna) stands to the Ionic dialect.
Besides these names of the Latins, I will mention a few others, and
first that of _Aborigines_. It is inconceivable that this name should
ever have been borne by the Latin nation itself, for it is nothing
else but the designation of a primitive people. The ancients generally
explain it to mean a nation from which others are descended; but this
etymology can scarcely be correct, it is probably synonymous with the
Greek αὐτόχθονες, for under this name and in this sense they are actually
mentioned in Roman traditions. We must bear in mind that all traditions
agree in representing the Latins as a mixed race: in the Trojan legends
they consist of Trojans and Aborigines, that is, strangers who arrived
by sea, and natives. But these legends do not belong to the history
of nations; they are mere fictions, which arose out of the Tyrrhenian
origin of the Latins. According to the other legend, which has more of
the character of an historical tradition, the Latin nation arose out of
an immigrating people, which, descending from the mountains, subdued the
_Siculi_ (only a dialectic variety of _Itali_), the ancient inhabitants
who extended into the interior as far as Tibur. This immigrating people
had no name, or we must suppose that its name or names have disappeared
from the traditions. But they were called _Casci_ (which, according
to Saufeius in Servius, was the name of the Aborigines) or _Prisci_.
In a later and more detailed account of the history, this relation
is completely reversed, the immigrating mountaineers being called
Aborigines. This is evidently wrong, for those are not autochthons who
subdue others, but those who are subdued: thus the natives of Attica
are called autochthons by the conquering Ionians. The name _Prisci_ is
an original national name, though it is not mentioned by the ancients:
_Priscus_, like _Cascus_, became a common appellative in the sense of
“old” in the same way as we call a thing Gothic or Old-Frankish; but
this is only a later meaning. The name by which the Latins are mentioned
in the early history of Rome and in the formulae of the pontifical books,
is _Prisci Latini_. This has been translated “the ancient Latins” as
opposed to the _colonarii Latini_; but this is quite impossible, for
they bore that name at a time when no Latin colonies were in existence.
_Prisci Latini_ is a combination of two national names just like _populus
Romanus Quirites_, _Patres Conscripti_, and the legal expressions _empti
venditi_, _locati conducti_, and signifies “the nation of the Prisci and
Latini.” Two words denoting either closely allied, or totally opposed
objects, the two extremes or poles of one idea, are put in juxtaposition
without any connecting link; this was the practice wherever one whole
was to be expressed by two terms. In this respect also much is still to
be done for Latin grammar; some things have been treated of with great
diffuseness, which might be settled in a few words, while others have
been completely neglected. Even in declension entire forms have been
misunderstood, but it is especially in regard to syntax that very much
remains to be done. The ancient mode of speaking occurs now and then,
and is either overlooked altogether or treated as exceptional; but it
ought to be treated with the same accuracy as, for example, the epic
dialect in Greek. In our case, e.g., the grammatical observation throws
light upon history; the Prisci Latini are the people of the thirty towns,
consisting of Priscans and Latins. The Priscans are the Oscan conquerors,
and the Latins the inhabitants of the coast, or the ancient Tyrrhenian
population. As in the genealogies of the Greeks, the Pelasgian race is
not separated, whence the heroes of the Trojan time frequently belong to
the Pelasgian genealogies, so the heroes of the Oscans also occur among
the Latins, and vice versa. Hesiod, in the well-known passage, mentions
Latinus, the son of Circe and Odysseus, as ruler of all the Tyrrhenians
(Πᾶσι Τυρσηνοῖσιν ἀγακλειτοῖσιν ἀνάσσων), understanding by Tyrrhenians
the people dwelling on the coasts, in the wide extent of ἡ Λατίνη.
These are the results of my investigations about the Latins. They are
spoken of in two senses: in the most ancient, they comprise all the
Siculians or Tyrrhenians on the western coast of Italy; in a narrower
and later sense, the Latins are a mixed people of Siculians and the
Oscans who had come down from the mountains. The great mass of the real
Latins became so amalgamated with the conquerors, that the main body
remained essentially Pelasgian; the alleged emigration[3] either does
not refer to the Latins at all, or only to a small portion of them; they
remained after the foreign conquest in such numbers, that their race did
not undergo any change, in the same manner as the Italians, after the
Lombard conquest, remained essentially Italians, although the Lombards,
who had come with their women and children were the rulers. Even a small
people may preserve its peculiar language for a long time; the Franks
perhaps had scarcely twenty thousand soldiers. Sismondi, whose judgment
is otherwise in most matters of little weight, here observes quite
correctly, that in the tenth century, the Dukes of Beneventum still had
Lombard names; thus one is called Store Seitz, “preparing seats;”[4] and
this was four centuries after the immigration of the Lombards. In like
manner, the nobles in Livonia speak Lettish, but among themselves they
speak German with a peculiar pronunciation; several of them live on their
estates, speak German and have German chaplains, being, among thousands
of Livonians, the only Germans. And yet more than five centuries have
already elapsed since they settled there.
In describing the physical condition of Latium, I shall use the name
in the sense in which we find it, for example, in Pliny, where it
signifies the country between the Tiber, the Liris, and the Anio, though
on the side of the Anio the frontier must not be taken too strictly.
In our maps the boundary line is marked along the Anio; but this is
incorrect, for not only Tibur is situated on its right bank, but also
Nomentum, Corniculum, and other places. Latium, in a physical point
of view, consists of three distinct parts. The first is of a volcanic
nature, and its central point is the Mons Albanus (Monte Cavo), with
which are connected the hills of Tusculum. This volcanic part extends
from the Campagna di Roma as far as Velitrae, so that the country, as
it approaches the Tiber and the sea, terminates in low hills and almost
forms a plain. This part is at present called the Latin Hills (Monti
Latini); the ancients have no corresponding name for it, though it is
quite isolated. The second part is on the east of the first, and consists
of a continuation of the Apennines, which runs across the Anio as far
as the Liris; in front of it are the hills of the Hernicans, which
are likewise essentially a part of the Apennines, for they consist of
limestone and have no traces of a volcanic nature; they extend as far as
the borders of the Pontine marshes. Between them and the neighbourhood
of Tivoli, the country is low, and in some parts a perfect plain, as
in the district where Gabii was situated; but although the country is
level, it still shows traces of volcanic agency. This is the country of
the Hernicans, with lofty Praeneste and the Latin colonies on the border
of the Pontine marshes; further on, as far as the hills, the country
contained the Aequian and Volscian towns. Those hills are extremely
beautiful, and the high country of mount Algidus lies between them and
the volcanic plain of Campania; the district of mount Algidus forms the
watershed, the waters on the one side flowing towards the Liris, and on
the other towards the Anio and the sea through the Pontine marshes. On
the north-east of Velitrae there is a table-land with broken ground. The
third part, or the country in the north-west, the west, and south, is
of quite a different character, consisting of loose, volcanic ground,
puzzolano and tufo, which are products of volcanic eruptions. The Tiber
in the neighbourhood of Rome was once an arm of the sea, as is clear
from the undoubted investigations of Brocchi, and pure marine sand is
found there; but in whatever part of the country a mineral occurs, it
always consists of an immense quantity of puzzolano, which in some parts
has become tufo. Such is the nature of all the country round Rome, but
strange to say, one part of the Aventine contains a vein of limestone.
Towards the sea the nature of the country is, I believe, the same. On the
coast, the land sinks down and becomes a plain of sand as in many barren
districts of Germany, whence the coast is covered with firs, and was
called _ager macerrimus_ by Fabius Maximus.[5] South of Ostia the coast
gradually rises and becomes a down connecting Latium with cape Circaeum,
the high promontory of Circe. This hill belongs to the Apennines, and it
is impossible to say how it may have become attached to Latium; it must,
however, originally have been separated from it by an inland sea. Into
this sea behind the downs, the river Ufens and several others poured
their waters from the hills; and the mud carried down by them has formed
the Pontine marshes, the nature of which was distinctly recognised even
by the ancients as a πρόσχωσις, that is, a filling up of a place which
was once a part of the sea, but they were mistaken as to the period when
this happened. Lessing justly observes that many an error consists in
merely mistaking the time; I know from my own experience, that even when
you entertain a sound and correct view of a thing, you may often err
in regard to time: you are anxious at once to fix the time, and commit
a blunder. Such is the case also in ancient history. Pliny is one of
those men who, by immense industry, have made themselves dull; he is
originally not deficient in intelligence and judgment. Many people carry
reading and writing to excess; Heyne, for example, would have become a
good philologer, had he not undertaken too much, and had he not thereby
been obliged to cut many a knotty point instead of solving it. It is
possible, therefore, that his name will not be remembered by posterity.
In some chapters Pliny does not show his usual manner; many things are
treated of with a real love of his subject and with great success, and
his history may even have been beautiful and genial. But he thought he
was able to produce a work, the extent of which, as he fixed it in his
own mind, was beyond the grasp of man, unless he had given up everything
else in order to be able to complete it. He dictated, and had a person to
read to him even when he was taking his bath or his meals, and by this
means all kinds of materials were accumulated without discrimination.
It is possible that he may have passed the Pontine marshes a hundred
times; but Mucianus had recorded the erroneous opinion, that at one time
twenty-three towns had existed there, and Pliny copied it; he states
however, in the same breath, that a lake had covered the same country as
late as the time of Theophrastus. The latter indeed speaks of islands,
but had not seen them himself. The marshes can never have been a high
country in which towns existed. The high-road of Trajan was several feet
below the present level of the marsh, and it is still constantly rising.
The downs continue, but between Terracina and Circeii they leave an
opening for the Ufens and other waters so far as they flow out of the
marshes.
TOPOGRAPHY OF ROME.
I shall now at once proceed to say something about the topography of
Rome; whether I shall be able afterwards to treat of this subject more
in detail, depends upon circumstances; but for the present I will give
you a general outline. It is a pity that without drawings it is almost
impossible to form a clear idea. This is not the place for speaking
about the origin of Rome, but I shall not abstain from noticing the most
ancient divisions, and briefly to state their origin.
In very remote times, there existed, according to the most credible
accounts, a small town on the Palatine hill; this town was probably
called _Roma_, and its name was afterwards extended so as to embrace
other neighbouring places. Another town existed on the Tarpeian hill
opposite, occupying at the same time a portion of the Quirinal (not
the whole of it); and I am convinced that I have discovered its name,
which was undoubtedly _Quirium_. There are ancient statements that many
small towns existed on the summits of the hills in that district—they
may, in fact, have been no more than villages. One of these places was
situated on mount Caelius, and undoubtedly bore the name of _Lucerum_.
These three towns afterwards grew together, and extended south of the
Palatine beyond the great chasm of the Circus as far as the higher and
more important hill called the Aventine. This hill also contained a
town, which at first, unless it was in friendly alliance, might become
dangerous to the city; but when a portion of the Latins was admitted to
the Roman franchise, they received settlements there, and in this manner
that place likewise became united with Rome. The Aventine being, as
it were, an outpost, was connected with the city by means of a rampart
extending to mount Caelius. These five hills, then, the Palatine,
Quirinal, Capitoline, Caelius, and Aventine, formed together one whole,
but each had separate rights, just as in Great Britain at the time when
England and Scotland were united, and Ireland had its own parliament
under British supremacy. A union existed between Roma and Quirium, while
Lucerum, like Ireland, was dependent, though it had its own government;
and the town on the Aventine stood in the relation of the English
colonies. From the Caelian hill to the foot of the Quirinal another great
fortification consisting of a mound and a ditch was formed, whereby the
whole became united as one city; the Esquiline and Viminal were drawn
into the city at a later period.
In ancient ethnography and history there occur numbers, which, in a
surprising manner, recur at the most different periods; they are by no
means fanciful; to regard them as something mystical, is itself a strange
fancy, though there have been men of great intelligence, who have not
been able to resist this notion. The number seven which so often meets
us in Roman history, is something peculiar which has taken deep root
there. There are unmistakeable traces that, previous to the complete
union between the Romans and Quirites, Roma on the Palatine, Lucerum on
the Caelius, and the town on the Aventine, together with their suburbs,
formed one community, which was divided into seven districts, and bore
the name of _Septimontium_. These seven hills were afterwards transferred
to the whole of the city of Rome. Every one knows the passage in Virgil,
_Septemque una sibi muro circumdedit arces_; but these are in part
quite different hills from those originally comprised under the name
Septimontium, which did not even consist of seven distinct hills.[6] They
then were, the Palatine, Capitoline (formerly called Tarpeius), Quirinal,
Viminal, Esquiline, Caelius, and Aventine. In this sense, and when all
were enclosed by one wall, the Aventine also is reckoned as one of the
seven hills, though otherwise it is not always regarded as a part of
the city. In order not to go beyond the number seven, two very distinct
hills, the Cispius and Oppius, were treated as one under the name
Esquiline; the Aventine, at least in the opinion of the Romans, was the
highest and most considerable of all; in order, therefore, not to leave
it out, the two mentioned before were united into one. They can still be
clearly distinguished, however much the forms of the hills have otherwise
become obscured by ruins and rubbish: even the most indifferent observer
will recognise them as two hills.
Within this circumference, Rome was contained after the _agger_ of
Servius Tullius was completed. This agger was an enormous work: it ran,
almost an Italian mile, from the Colline to the Esquiline gate, and was
a moat of one hundred feet in breadth and thirty in depth, the earth
of which was thrown up as a mound lined with a wall and fortified with
towers. In the time of Augustus this work was not only still discernible,
but was used as a promenade, a kind of boulevard, of which Horace says,
_aggere in aprico spatiari_; it continued to be admired even in Pliny’s
time, while the other walls were already destroyed. At present only
few traces of it are visible; but I have no doubt that by excavations
the lining wall might still be discovered. In some parts, the agger is
still discernible as a continuous hill. Through this agger, then, the
whole city became one united place. Although the city became greatly
extended, by incorporating with itself suburbs and other hills, yet the
additional hills were not counted, and Rome remained the city of the
seven hills. One of the additions which the city received, was that of
the _mons Pincius_ or _Hortulorum_, on the other side of a wide valley,
by which it was separated from the Quirinal: it derived its name from the
palace of the Pincii, of which the ruins were to be seen as late as the
sixteenth century; it is also remarkable as the place where Belisarius
in the sixth century had his head-quarters. Near the Aventine, another
hill was added, to which the ancients do not give a distinct name, but
which, during the middle ages, was strangely called _Asbestus_, which is
perhaps a corruption of an ancient name. If it be not a mere invention,
it is probable that a church may have stood there which was called _in
Asbesto_. Nibby was the first to notice this, at least he first published
it.[7] The suburb beyond the bridge (_trans Tiberim_, _Trastevere_)
also was added, and in like manner the _Janiculus_ became a part of the
city, as well as another small hill in the neighbourhood of the second
Aventine, the greater part of which, however, was outside the city. The
number of hills which were regarded as belonging to the circumference
of the city, thus already amounted to ten. In the ninth century, when
the Borgo was built and St. Peter was fortified, the Vatican hill also
was incorporated, so that at present the number of hills belonging
to the city amounts to eleven. A great part of them, however, is now
uninhabited, being covered by vineyards. But the division into seven
parts had taken such firm root, that Augustus, in dividing the city into
regions for the purpose of regulating the administration of the police,
made fourteen regions; and this was wise and not a pedantic going back to
obsolete institutions. This arrangement of Augustus was very necessary,
for Rome was at that time little better than a den of robbers, as is
usually the case in republics when the free constitution is not kept
fresh and adapted to circumstances, when they become too vast, when
morality decays, and when there arises a contradiction between the social
condition of the nation and its constitution. In such circumstances the
condition of a republic is the most fearful that can be imagined. The
collective national wealth is never the main thing: I am convinced that
in England, if the middle classes are destroyed (and such a middle class
scarcely exists, for the people are either very rich or very poor),
morals will decay, and that the nation will come to a point, where it can
no longer enjoy its liberty, and will perish by internal convulsions:
Hume has predicted this long ago. Whoever wishes to promote and preserve
freedom, must first ask himself, Is it possible to preserve morality,
virtue, and honesty? Have the morals of the people retained their purity?
Do they respect themselves, their fellow-men, and God? If this is not
the case, liberty is a curse and not a blessing. Such was the case of
the Romans under Augustus: terrible as was his government, still there
was no other way. In like manner, the revolution of the 18th Brumaire
was the most fortunate event for France, and by it Napoleon did more for
the country than by his victories. In his circumstances Augustus could
not ask himself, “Is it not a handsome thing to preserve the ancient
forms?” but, “What is the task I have to accomplish, especially how can
I restore security?” For a man’s life was not safe even in his bed.
Home and its vicinity were then probably even more unsafe than in our
times; no one then could go from Rome to Albano without risking his life,
whereas now even in the worst seasons no one has any thing to fear there.
Whoever went out in the dark, had reason to be grateful, if he escaped
with his life. Augustus, therefore, with a feeling that it could not be
otherwise, divided the city into fourteen regions. In like manner the
Christians in the earliest times divided themselves into seven deaneries
or ecclesiastical regions, which, however, were by no means as distinctly
marked as has sometimes been supposed; and it is evident from monuments
that the ancient boundaries were not observed in them. This division into
seven continued until a late period of the middle ages, and afterwards we
find seven Cardinals, and seven civil dignitaries. Even at the present
day Rome is divided into fourteen regions; during the middle ages this
number was not kept up, but Sixtus V. again made it up by adding the
Borgo.
How much have these numbers been trifled with! The seven arms of the
chandelier in the temple of Jerusalem, the seven days of the week, and
even the seven planets have been pressed into the service to explain
them. But such explanations may be found for any number. At the time of
the French revolution I knew a good-natured man, who enthusiastically
took up every change and demonstrated that, as man has five fingers and
five senses, the Directoire and the Council of the Five Hundred was
the most perfect form of government. When there were three consuls, he
comprehended this too and found it quite natural; and when at last there
was only one, he declared that it was all right, for that unity must
prevail in nature. Such trifling with numbers is a bad thing.
I have already spoken to you about the physical character of the whole
district. The ground is volcanic, the stones are tufo, and the loose
soil puzzolano. These volcanic substances are very useful as cement and
very durable. Wherever in architectural structures the ancients speak
of _arena_, we have to understand puzzolano; we translate it indeed by
“sand,” but it is a volcanic sand. Thus we read in Cicero’s speech for
Cluentius that a dead body was found in a sand-pit (_arenaria_); such
pits were dug very deep and were very extensive. Of the same kind are the
catacombs at Rome: they are large subterraneous passages, which, if due
care was taken in their construction, did not fall in. In my lectures on
Roman antiquities, I have said that these catacombs were the ordinary
burial places for the poor. This much may suffice about the hills.