understood its meaning, with dismay. Yet the latter, after being driven
back, soon recovered, and, despite the self-devotion of Decius, would
probably have won the victory had not the remaining consul brought up
his reserve troops just in time. In the end the Latins were utterly
defeated, and Vesuvius looked down on the massacre of one army by the
swords of another, scarcely a fourth of the Latins escaping. Thus the
gods seemed to keep their word, though probably the Roman reserve force
had more to do with the victory than all the gods of Rome.
The next event which we have to relate took place during the second
Samnite war. Its hero was L. Papirius Cursor, one of the favorite heroes
of Roman tradition, and the avenger of the disgrace of the Caudine
Forks, the story of which we have next to tell. This famous soldier is
said to have possessed marvellous swiftness of foot and gigantic
strength, with extraordinary capacity for food, while his iron
strictness of discipline was at times relieved by a rough humor. All
this made his memory popular with the Romans, who boasted that Alexander
the Great would have found in him a worthy champion, had that conqueror
invaded Italy.
The event we have now to narrate occurred early in the war. One of the
consuls, being taken ill, was ordered to name a dictator to replace him,
and chose Papirius Cursor. This champion appointed Q. Fabius Rullianus,
another famous soldier, his master of the horse, and marched out to
attack the Samnites.
As it happened, the auspices taken by the dictator at Rome before
marching to the seat of war were of no particular significance. Not
satisfied with them, he decided to take them again, and returned to Rome
for this purpose, the auspices being of a kind which could only be taken
within the city walls. He ordered the master of the horse to remain
strictly on the defensive during his absence.
Fabius did not obey this order. He attacked the enemy and gained some
advantage. The annals say that he won a great victory, defeating the
Samnites with a loss of twenty thousand men; but the annals have a habit
of magnifying small affairs into large ones where they have any object
to gain.
On hearing that his orders had been disobeyed, Papirius hurried back to
the camp in a violent rage, and with the intention of making such an
example of discipline as Manlius had made in the execution of his son.
On reaching camp he ordered that Fabius should be immediately executed.
His authority as dictator gave him power for this violent act; but he
failed to reckon on the spirit of the soldiers, who supported Fabius to
a man, and broke into a violent demonstration that was almost mutiny. So
strong was their feeling that the furious dictator found himself obliged
to halt in his purpose.
But Fabius knew too well the iron nature of his antagonist to trust his
life in his hands. That night he fled from the camp to Rome, and
immediately appealed to the senate for protection. Papirius followed in
hot haste, and while the senators were still assembling arrived in Rome,
where, under his authority as dictator, he gave order for the arrest of
the culprit. In this critical situation the prisoner's father, M.
Fabius, appealed to the tribunes for the protection of his son, saying
that he proposed to carry the case before the assembly of the people.
The tribunes found themselves in a dilemma. Papirius warned them not to
sanction so flagrant a breach of military discipline, nor to lessen the
majesty of the office of dictator, and they found themselves hesitating
between their duty to support the absolute power of the dictator and
their abhorrence of an exercise of this power that must shock the
feelings of the whole Roman people. The people themselves relieved their
tribunes from this difficulty. They hastily met in assembly, and by a
unanimous vote implored the dictator to be merciful, and for their sakes
to forgive Fabius. His authority thus acknowledged, Papirius yielded,
and declared that he pardoned the master of the horse. "And the
authority of the Roman generals," says Livy, "was established no less
firmly by the peril of Q. Fabius than by the actual death of the young
T. Manlius."
It was well for Rome that Fabius was spared, for he afterwards proved
one of their ablest generals. The time came, also, when he was able to
confer a benefit upon Papirius Cursor. This was during a subsequent war
with the Etruscans, in which he commanded as consul and gained great
victories. Meanwhile a Roman army was defeated by the Samnites, and on
the news of this defeat reaching Rome the senate at once resolved to
appoint Papirius once more as dictator.
But this appointment must be made by a consul. One consul was with the
defeated army, perhaps dead. It was necessary to apply to Fabius, the
other consul, and the declared enemy of the proposed dictator. To
overcome his personal feelings, a deputation of the highest senators was
sent him, who read him the senate's decree and strongly urged him to
support it. Fabius listened in dead silence, not answering by word or
look. When they had ended, he abruptly withdrew from the room. But at
dead of night he pronounced, in the usual form, the nomination of
Papirius as dictator. When the deputies thanked him for his noble
conquest over his feelings, he listened still in dead silence, and
dismissed them without a word in answer.
We must now pass over years of war, in which both Fabius and Papirius
gained honor and fame, and come to an occasion in which the son of
Fabius led a Roman army as consul, and met with a severe defeat by a
Samnite army. He had been tricked by the Samnites, and great indignation
was aroused against him in Rome. It was proposed to remove him from his
office, a disgrace which no consul ever experienced in Roman history. It
was also proposed that old Fabius should be appointed dictator. But the
aged soldier, to preserve the honor of his son, offered to go with him
as his lieutenant, and the offer was accepted by the senate.
A second battle ensued, in the heat of which the consul became
surrounded by the enemy, and his aged father led the charge to his
rescue. His example animated the Romans, they followed him in a vigorous
assault, and a complete victory was won. Twenty thousand Samnites were
slain, four thousand taken prisoners, and with them their general, C.
Pontius. After other victories the younger Fabius returned to Rome and
was given a triumph, while behind him rode his old father on horseback,
as one of his lieutenants, delighting in the honor conferred on his son.
The Samnite general was made to walk in the procession, and at its end
was taken to the prison under the Capitoline Hill and there beheaded. It
was thus that Rome dealt with its captured foes.
_THE CAUDINE FORKS._
Westward from Rome rise the Apennine Mountains, the backbone of Italy;
and amid their highest peaks, where the snow lies all the year long, and
whence streams flow into the two seas, dwelt the Sabines, an important
people, from whom came the mothers of the Roman state. There is a legend
concerning this people which we have now to tell. For many years they
had been at war with their neighbors, the Umbrians; and at length,
failing to conquer their enemies by their own strength, they sought to
obtain the help of the divinities. They made a vow that if victory was
given to them, all the living creatures born that year in their land
should be held as sacred to the gods.
The victory came, and they sacrificed all the lambs, calves, kids, and
pigs of that year's birth, while they redeemed from the gods such
animals as were not suitable for sacrifice. But, as it appeared, the
deities were not satisfied. The land refused to yield its fruits, and
the Sabines were not long in deciding why their crops had failed. They
had neither sacrificed nor redeemed the children born that year, and had
thus failed in their duty to the gods.
To atone for this fault, all their children of that year's birth were
devoted to the god Mamers, and when they had grown up they were sent
away to make themselves a home in a new land. As the young men started
on their pilgrimage a bull went before them, and, as they fancied that
Mamers had sent this animal for their guide, they piously followed him.
He first lay down to rest when he had come to the land of the Opicans.
This the Sabines took for a sign, and they fell on the Opicans, who
dwelt in villages without walls, and drove them out from their country,
of which the new-comers took possession. They then sacrificed the bull
to Mamers; and in after-ages they bore the bull for their device. They
also took a new name, and were afterwards known as Samnites.
While the Romans were extending their dominion in Central Italy, the
Samnites were conquering the peoples farther south. Their dominion
became great, and at one time included the famous cities of Herculaneum
and Pompeii and many others of the cities of the southern plains. In the
centre of the Samnite country stood a remarkable mountain mass, an
offshoot from the Apennines. This mountain, now called the Matese, is
nearly eight miles in circumference, and rises abruptly in huge
wall-like cliffs of limestone to the height of three thousand feet. Its
surface is greatly varied in character, now sloping into deep valleys,
now rising into elevated cliffs, of which the loftiest is six thousand
feet high. It is rich in springs, which gush out in full flow, and
disappear again in the caverns with which limestone rocks abound. Its
valleys yield abundant pasture and magnificent beech forests, while on
its highest summits the snow tarries till late summer, and in the
hottest months of summer the upland pastures continue cool.
This mountain fastness formed the citadel from which the Samnites issued
in conquering excursions over the surrounding country, and enabled them
in time to extend their dominion far and wide, and to rival Rome in the
width and importance of their state. Thus Rome and Samnium approached
each other step by step, and the time inevitably came when they were to
join issue in war.
Three wars took place between the Romans and the Samnites. In the first
of these Valerius Corvus (the origin of whose name of Corvus we have
already told) led the Roman army to victory. In honor of this victory
Rome received from Carthage (with which city it was to engage in a
desperate contest in later years) a golden crown, for the shrine of
Jupiter in the Capitol.
In 329 B.C. Rome finally overcame the Volscians, with whom they had been
many years at war, and three years afterwards war with the Samnites was
again declared. The latter were invading Campania, in which country lay
the volcano of Vesuvius and the city of Naples. Rome came to the aid of
the Campanians, and a war began which lasted for more than twenty years.
Of this war we have but one event to tell, that in which Rome suffered
the greatest humiliation it had met with in its entire career, the
famous affair of the Caudine Forks. It was in the fifth campaign of the
war that this event took place. Two Roman armies had marched into
Campania and threatened the southern border of Samnium, which the
Samnite general Pontius was prepared to defend. His force occupied the
passes which led from the plain of Naples into the higher mountain
valleys; but he deceived the Romans by spreading the report that the
whole Samnite army had gone to Apulia, where they were besieging the
city of Luceria. His purpose was to lure the Romans into these difficult
defiles under the impression that the Samnites were trusting to the
natural strength of their country for its defence.
The trick succeeded. The Roman consuls believed the story, and, in their
haste to go to the aid of their allies in Apulia, chose the shortest
route, that which led through the Samnian hills. The absence of the
Samnite army would enable them, they thought, to force their way through
Samnium without difficulty; and, blinded by their false confidence, the
consuls recklessly led their men into the fatal pass of Caudium.
This pass was a narrow opening in the outer wall of the Apennines, which
led from the plain of Campania to Maleventum. To-day it is traversed by
the road from Naples to Benevento, and is called the valley of Arpaia.
In the past it was famous as Caudium.
Into this defile the Romans marched between the rugged mountain
acclivities that bounded its sides, and through the deep silence that
reigned around. The pass seemed utterly deserted, and they expected
soon to emerge into a more open valley in the interior of the hills.
But as they advanced the pass contracted, until it became but a narrow
gorge, and this they found to be blocked up with great stones and felled
trees. Brought to a halt, the troops stood gazing in dismay and dread on
these obstacles, when suddenly the silence was broken, loud war-cries
filled the air, and armed Samnites appeared as if by magic, covering the
hills on both flanks, and crowding into the pass in the rear.
The Romans were caught in such a trap as that from which Cincinnatus had
rescued a Roman army many years before. But there was here no
Cincinnatus with his stakes, and they were far from Rome. The entrapped
army made a desperate effort to escape, attacking the Samnites in the
rear, and seeking to force their way up the rugged surrounding hills.
They fought in vain. Many of them fell. The Samnite foe pressed them
still more closely into the rocky pass. Only the coming of night saved
them from total destruction.
But escape was impossible. The gorge in front was completely blocked up.
The pass in the rear was held by the enemy in force. The flanking hills
could hardly have been climbed by an army, even if they had not been
occupied. No resource remained to the Romans but to encamp in the
broader part of the narrow valley, and there wait in hopeless despair
the outcome of their folly.
The Samnites could well afford to let them wait. The rear was held by
the bulk of their army. The obstacles in front were strongly guarded.
Every possible track by which the Romans might try to scale the hills
was held. Some desperate attempts to break out were made, but they were
easily repulsed. Nothing remained but surrender, or death by famine.
One or other of these alternatives had soon to be chosen. A large army,
surprised on its march, and confined within a barren pass, could not
have subsistence for any long period. Nothing was to be gained by delay,
and they might as well yield themselves prisoners of war at once.
So the Romans evidently thought, and without delay they put themselves
at the mercy of their conquerors. "We yield ourselves your captives,"
they said, "to do with as you will. Put us all to the sword, if such be
your decision; sell us into slavery; or hold us as prisoners until we
are ransomed: one thing only we ask, save our bodies, whether living or
dead, from all unworthy insults."
In this request they forgot the record that Rome had made; forgot how
often noble captives had been forced to walk in Roman triumphs and been
afterwards slain in cold blood in the common prison; forgot how they had
recently refused the rites of burial to the body of a noble Samnite. But
Pontius, the Samnite general, was much less of a barbarian than the
Romans of that age. He was acquainted with Greek philosophy, had even
held conversation, it is said, with Plato, and was not the man to
indulge in cruel or insulting acts.
"Restore to us," he said to the consuls, "the towns and territory you
have taken from us, and withdraw the colonists whom you have unjustly
placed on our soil. Conclude with us a treaty of peace, in which each
nation shall be acknowledged to be independent of the other. Swear to do
this, and I will grant you your lives and release you without ransom.
Each man of you shall give up his arms, but may keep his clothes
untouched; and you shall pass before our army as prisoners who have been
in our power and whom we have set free of our own will, when we might
have killed or sold them, or held them for ransom."
These terms the consuls were glad enough to accept. They were far better
than they would have granted the Samnites under similar circumstances.
Pontius now called for the Roman fecialis, whose duty it was to conclude
all treaties and take all oaths for the Roman people. But there was no
fecialis with the army. The senate had sent none, having resolved to
make no terms with the Samnites, and to accept only their absolute
submission. They had never dreamed of such a turn of the tide as this.
In the absence of the proper officer, the consuls and all the surviving
officers took the oath, while it was agreed that six hundred knights
should be held as hostages until the Roman people had ratified the
treaty. Why Pontius did not insist on treating with the senate and
people of Rome at once, instead of trusting to them to ratify a treaty
made with prisoners of war, we are not told. He was soon to learn how
weak a reed to lean upon was the Roman faith.
The treaty made, the humiliating part of the affair came. The Roman
army was obliged to march under the yoke, which consisted of two spears
set upright and a third fastened across their tops. Under this the
soldiers of the legions without their arms, and wearing but a single
article of clothing,--the campestre or kilt, which reached from the
waist to the knees,--passed in gloomy succession. Even the consuls were
obliged to appear in this humble plight, the six hundred hostage knights
alone being spared.
This was no peculiar insult, but a common usage on such occasions. The
Romans had imposed it more than once on defeated enemies. They were now
to endure it themselves, and the affair, under the name of the Caudine
Forks, has become famous in history.
Pontius proved, indeed, generous to his foes. He supplied carriages for
the sick and wounded, and furnished provisions to last the army until it
should arrive at Home. When that city was reached the senate and people
came out and welcomed the soldiers with the greatest kindness. But the
wounded pride of the legionaries could not be soothed. Those who had
homes in the country stole from the ranks and sought their several
dwellings. Those who lived in Rome lingered without the walls until
after the sun had fallen, and then made their way home through the
darkness. The consuls were obliged to enter in open day, but as soon as
possible they sought their homes, and shut themselves up in privacy.
As for the city, it went into mourning. All business was suspended; the
patricians laid aside their gold rings and took off the red border of
their dresses which marked their rank; the plebeians appeared in
mourning garbs; there was as much weeping for those who had returned in
dishonor as for those left dead on the field; all rejoicings, festivals,
and marriages were set aside for a year of happier omen.
The final result was such as might have been expected from the earlier
record of Rome. The senate refused to recognize the treaty. The defeated
consuls themselves sustained this bad faith, saying that they and all
the officers should be given up to the Samnites, as having promised what
they were unable to perform.
This was done. Half stripped, as when they passed under the yoke, and
their hands bound behind their backs, the officers were conducted by the
fecialis to the Samnian frontier, and delivered to the Samnites as men
who had forfeited their liberty by their breach of faith. The surrender
completed, Postumius, one of the consuls, struck a fecialis violently
with his knee,--his hands and feet being bound,--and cried out,--
"I now belong to the Samnites, and I have done violence to the sacred
person of a Roman fecialis and ambassador. You will rightfully wage war
with us, Romans, to avenge this outrage."
This transparent trick was wasted on Pontius. He refused the victims
offered him. They were not the guilty ones, he said. The legions must be
placed again in the Caudium Valley, or Rome keep the treaty. Anything
else would be base and faithless.
The treaty was not kept. The war went on. And nearly thirty years
afterwards, as we have told in the preceding story, Pontius, who had
behaved so generously to the Romans, was led as a prisoner in a Roman
triumph, and then basely beheaded while the triumphal car of the victor
ascended the Capitoline Hill. His death is one of the darkest blots on
the Roman name. "Such a murder," we are told, "committed or sanctioned
by such a man as Q. Fabius, is peculiarly a national crime, and proves
but too clearly that in their dealings with foreigners the Romans had
neither magnanimity, nor humanity, nor justice."
_THE FATE OF REGULUS._
We have followed the growth of Rome from its seed in the cradle of
Romulus and Remus to its early maturity in the conquest of Italy. Its
triumph over the Latins, Samnites, and Etruscans had made it virtually
master of that peninsula. In the year 280 B.C. it was first called upon
to meet a great foreign soldier in the celebrated Pyrrhus of Epirus, who
had invaded Italy. How this great soldier scared the Romans with his
elephants and defeated them in the field, but was finally baffled and
left the country in disgust, we have told in "Historical Tales of
Greece." It was not many years after this that Rome herself went abroad
in search of new foes, and her long and bitter struggle with Carthage
began.
The great city of Carthage lay on the African side of the Mediterranean,
where it had won for itself a great empire, and had added to its
dominion by important conquests in Spain and Sicily. Settled many
centuries before by emigrants from the Phoenician city of Tyre, it
had, like its mother city, grown rich through commerce, and was now lord
of the Mediterranean and one of the great cities of the earth. With this
city Rome was now to begin a mighty struggle, which would last for many
years and end in the utter destruction of the great African city and
state.
Pyrrhus of Epirus, on leaving Sicily, had said, "What a grand arena this
would be for Rome and Carthage to contend upon!" And it was in the
island of Sicily that the struggle between these two mighty powers
began. In the year 264 B.C., nearly five centuries after the founding of
Rome, that city first sent its armies beyond the borders of Italy, and
the long contest between Rome and Carthage was inaugurated.
Some soldiers of fortune, who had invaded Sicily and found themselves in
trouble, called upon Rome for help. Carthage, which held much of the
island, was also appealed to, and both sent armies. The result was a
collision between these armies. In two years' time most of Sicily
belonged to Rome, and Carthage retained hardly a foothold upon that
island.
This rapid success of the Romans in foreign conquest encouraged them
greatly. But they were soon to find themselves at a disadvantage. Being
an inland power, they knew nothing of ocean warfare, and possessed none
but small ships. Carthage, on the contrary, had a large and powerful
fleet, and now began to use it with great effect. By its aid the
Carthaginians took from Rome many towns on the coast of Sicily. They
also landed on and ravaged the coasts of Italy. It was made evident to
the Roman senate that if they looked for success they must meet the
enemy on their own element, and dispute with Carthage the dominion of
the sea.
How was this to be done? The largest ships they knew of had only three
banks of oars. Carthage possessed war vessels with five banks of oars,
and built on a plan different from that of the smaller vessels. Rome had
no model for these ships, and was at a loss what to do. Fortunately a
Carthaginian quinquereme (a ship with five banks of oars) ran ashore on
the coast of Italy, and was captured and sent to Rome. This served as a
model for the shipwrights of that city, and so energetically did they
set to work that in two months after the first cutting of the timber
they had built and launched more than a hundred ships of this class.