BOOK I[1]

ROMAN HISTORY

By

Titus Livius

Translated by

John Henry Freese, Alfred John Church, and William Jackson Brodribb

With a Critical and Biographical Introduction and Notes by Duffield

Osborne

Illustrated

1904

LIVY'S HISTORY

Of the lost treasures of classical literature, it is doubtful whether

any are more to be regretted than the missing books of Livy. That

they existed in approximate entirety down to the fifth century, and

possibly even so late as the fifteenth, adds to this regret. At the

same time it leaves in a few sanguine minds a lingering hope that some

unvisited convent or forgotten library may yet give to the world a

work that must always be regarded as one of the greatest of Roman

masterpieces. The story that the destruction of Livy was effected by

order of Pope Gregory I, on the score of the superstitions contained

in the historian's pages, never has been fairly substantiated, and

therefore I prefer to acquit that pontiff of the less pardonable

superstition involved in such an act of fanatical vandalism. That the

books preserved to us would be by far the most objectionable from

Gregory's alleged point of view may be noted for what it is worth in

favour of the theory of destruction by chance rather than by design.

Here is the inventory of what we have and of what we might have had.

The entire work of Livy--a work that occupied more than forty years

of his life--was contained in one hundred and forty-two books, which

narrated the history of Rome, from the supposed landing of Æneas,

through the early years of the empire of Augustus, and down to the

death of Drusus, B.C. 9. Books I-X, containing the story of early

Rome to the year 294 B.C., the date of the final subjugation of the

Samnites and the consequent establishment of the Roman commonwealth as

the controlling power in Italy, remain to us. These, by the accepted

chronology, represent a period of four hundred and sixty years. Books

XI-XX, being the second "decade," according to a division attributed

to the fifth century of our era are missing. They covered seventy-five

years, and brought the narrative down to the beginning of the second

Punic war. Books XXI-XLV have been saved, though those of the fifth

"decade" are imperfect. They close with the triumph of Æmilius, in 167

B.C., and the reduction of Macedonia to a Roman province. Of the other

books, only a few fragments remain, the most interesting of which

(from Book CXX) recounts the death of Cicero, and gives what appears

to be a very just estimate of his character. We have epitomes of all

the lost books, with the exception of ten; but these are so scanty as

to amount to little more than tables of contents. Their probable date

is not later than the time of Trajan. To summarize the result, then,

thirty-five books have been saved and one hundred and seven lost--a

most deplorable record, especially when we consider that in the later

books the historian treated of times and events whereof his means of

knowledge were adequate to his task.

TITUS LIVIUS was born at Patavium, the modern Padua, some time between

61 and 57 B.C. Of his parentage and early life nothing is known. It

is easy to surmise that he was well born, from his political bias in

favour of the aristocratic party, and from the evident fact of his

having received a liberal education; yet the former of these arguments

is not at all inconsistent with the opposite supposition, and the

latter should lead to no very definite conclusion when we remember

that in his days few industries were more profitable than the higher

education of slaves for the pampered Roman market. Niebuhr infers,

from a sentence quoted by Quintilian, that Livy began life as a

teacher of rhetoric. However that may be, it seems certain that he

came to Rome about 30 B.C., was introduced to Augustus and won his

patronage and favour, and after the death of his great patron and

friend retired to the city of his birth, where he died, 17 A.D. It

is probable that he had fixed the date of the Emperor's death as the

limit of his history, and that his own decease cut short his task.

No historian ever told a story more delightfully. The available

translations leave much to be desired, but to the student of Latin

Livy's style is pure and simple, and possesses that charm which purity

and simplicity always give. If there is anything to justify the charge

of "Patavinity," or provincialism, made by Asinius Pollio, we, at

least, are not learned enough in Latin to detect it; and Pollio, too,

appears to have been no gentle critic if we may judge by his equally

severe strictures upon Cicero, Cæsar, and Sallust. This much we know:

the Patavian's heroes live; his events happen, and we are carried

along upon their tide. Our sympathies, our indignation, our

enthusiasm, are summoned into being, and history and fiction appear to

walk hand in hand for our instruction and amusement. In this latter

word--fiction--lies the charge most often and most strongly made

against him--the charge that he has written a story and no more; that

with him past time existed but to furnish materials "to point a moral

or adorn a tale." Let us consider to what extent this is true, and, if

true, in what measure the author has sinned by it or we have lost.

No one would claim that the rules by which scientific historians of

to-day are judged should be applied to those that wrote when history

was young, when the boundaries between the possible and the impossible

were less clearly defined, or when, in fact, such boundaries hardly

existed in men's minds. In this connection, even while we vaunt, we

smile. After all, how much of our modern and so-called scientific

history must strike the reasoning reader as mere theorizing or as

special pleading based upon the slenderest evidence! Among the

ancients the work of the historians whom we consider trustworthy--such

writers, for instance, as Cæsar, Thucydides, Xenophon, Polybius, and

Tacitus--may be said to fall generally within Rawlinson's canons 1 and

2 of historical criticism--that is, (1) cases where the historian has

personal knowledge concerning the facts whereof he writes, or (2)

where the facts are such that he may reasonably be supposed to have

obtained them from contemporary witnesses. Canon 2 might be elaborated

and refined very considerably and perhaps to advantage. It naturally

includes as sources of knowledge--first, personal interviews with

contemporary witnesses; and, second, accesses to the writings of

historians whose opportunities brought them within canon 1. In this

latter case the evidence would be less convincing, owing to the lack

of opportunity to cross-question, though even here apparent lack of

bias or the existence of biased testimony on both sides, from which a

judicious man might have a fair chance to extract the truth, would go

far to cure the defect.

The point, however, to which I tend is, that the portions of Livy's

history from which we must judge of his trustworthiness treat, for the

most part, of periods concerning which even his evidence was of the

scantiest and poorest description. He doubtless had family records,

funeral panegyrics, and inscription--all of which were possibly almost

as reliable as those of our own day. Songs sung at festivals and

handed down by tradition may or may not be held more truthful. These

he had as well; but the government records, the ancient fasti, had

been destroyed at the time of the burning of the city by the Gauls,

and there is no hint of any Roman historian that lived prior to the

date of the second Punic war. Thus we may safely infer that Livy wrote

of the first five hundred years without the aid of any contemporary

evidence, either approximately complete or ostensibly reliable. With

the beginning of the second Punic war began also the writing of

history. Quintus Fabius Pictor had left a work, which Polybius

condemned on the score of its evident partiality. Lucius Cincius

Alimentus, whose claim to knowledge if not to impartiality rests

largely on the fact that he was captured and held prisoner by

Hannibal, also left memoirs; but Hannibal was not famous for treating

prisoners mildly, and the Romans, most cruel themselves in this

respect, were always deeply scandalized by a much less degree of

harshness on the part of their enemies. Above all, there was Polybius

himself, who perhaps approaches nearer to the critical historian than

any writer of antiquity, and it is Polybius upon whom Livy mainly

relies through his third, fourth, and fifth decades. The works of

Fabius and Cincius are lost. So also are those of the Lacedaemonian

Sosilus and the Sicilian Silanus, who campaigned with Hannibal and

wrote the Carthaginian side of the story; nor is there any evidence

that either Polybius or Livy had access to their writings. Polybius,

then, may be said to be the only reliable source from which Livy could

draw for any of his extant books, and before condemning unqualifiedly

in the cases where he deserts him and harks back to Roman authorities

we must remember that Livy was a strong nationalist, one of a people

who, despite their conquests, were essentially narrow, prejudiced,

egotistical; and, thus remembering, we must marvel that he so fully

recognises the merit of his unprejudiced guide and wanders as little

as he does. All told, it is quite certain that he has dealt more

fairly by Hannibal than have Alison and other English historians by

Napoleon. His unreliability consists rather in his conclusions than in

his facts, and it is unquestioned that through all the pages of

the third decade he has so told the story of the man most hated by

Rome--the deadliest enemy she had ever encountered--that the reader

can not fail to feel the greatness of Hannibal dominating every

chapter.

Referring again to the criticisms made so lavishly upon Livy's story

of the earlier centuries, it is well to recall the contention of the

hard-headed Scotchman Ferguson, that with all our critical acumen we

have found no sure ground to rest upon until we reach the second Punic

war. Niebuhr, on the other hand, whose German temperament is alike

prone to delve or to theorize, is disposed to think--with considerable

generosity to our abilities, it appears to me--that we may yet evolve

a fairly true history of Rome from the foundation of the commonwealth.

As to the times of the kings, it is admitted that we know nothing,

while from the founding of the commonwealth to the second Punic war

the field may be described as, at the best, but a battle-ground for

rival theories.

The ancient historian had, as a rule, little to do with such

considerations or controversies. In the lack of solid evidence he had

only to write down the accepted story of the origin of things, as

drawn from the lips of poetry, legend, or tradition, and it was

for Livy to write thus or not at all. Even here the honesty of his

intention is apparent. For much of his early history he does not claim

more than is claimed for it by many of his modern critics, while time

and again he pauses to express a doubt as to the credibility of some

incident. A notable instance of this is found in his criticism of

those stories most dear to the Roman heart--the stories of the birth

and apotheosis of Romulus. On the other hand, if he has given free

life to many beautiful legends that were undoubtedly current and

believed for centuries, is it heresy to avow that these as such seem

to me of more true value to the antiquary than if they had been

subjected at their historical inception to the critical and

theoretical methods of to-day? I can not hold Livy quite unpardonable

even when following, as he often does, such authorities as the Furian

family version of the redemption of the city by the arms of their

progenitor Camillus, instead of by the payment of the agreed ransom,

as modern writers consider proven, while his putting of set speeches

into the mouths of his characters may be described as a conventional

usage of ancient historians, which certainly added to the liveliness

of the narrative and probably was neither intended to be taken

literally nor resulted in deceiving any one.

Reverting for a moment to Livy's honesty and frankness, so far as his

intent might govern such qualities, I think no stronger evidence in

his favour can be found than his avowed republican leanings at the

court of Augustus and his just estimate of Cicero's character in the

face of the favour of a prince by whose consent the great orator had

been assassinated. Above all, it must have been a fearless and honest

man who could swing the scourge with which he lashed his degenerate

countrymen in those stinging words, "The present times, when we can

endure neither our vices nor their remedies."

Nevertheless, and despite the facts that Livy means to be honest and

that he questions much on grounds that would not shame the repute of

many of his modern critics, the charge is doubtless true that his

writings are not free from prejudice in favour of his country. That he

definitely regarded history rather as a moral agency and a lesson for

the future than as an irrefutable narrative of the past, I consider

highly hypothetical; but it is probable that his mind was not of the

type that is most diligent in the close, exhaustive, and logical study

so necessary to the historian of today. "Superficial," if we could

eliminate the reproach in the word, would perhaps go far toward

describing him. He is what we would call a popular rather than a

scientific writer, and, since we think somewhat lightly of such when

they write on what we consider scientific subjects, we are too apt to

transfer their light repute to an author who wrote popularly at a time

when this treatment was best adapted to his audience, his aims, and

the material at his command. That he has survived through all these

centuries, and has enjoyed, despite all criticism, the position in

the literature of the world which his very critics have united

in conceding to him, is perhaps a stronger commendation than any

technical approval.

From the standpoint of the present work it was felt that selections

aggregating seven books would accomplish all the purposes of a

complete presentation. The editors have chosen the first three books

of the first decade as telling what no one can better tell than Livy:

the stories and legends connected with the foundation and early life

of Rome. Here, as I have said, there was nothing for him to do but cut

loose from all trammels and hang breathless, pen in hand, upon the

lips of tradition. None can hold but that her faithful scribe has writ

down her words with all their ancient colour, with reverence reigning

over his heart; however doubts might lurk within his brain. These

books close with the restoration of the consular power, after the

downfall of the tyrannical rule of the Decemvirs, the revolution

following upon the attempt of Appius Claudius to seize Virginia, the

daughter of a citizen who, rather than see his child fall into the

clutches of the cruel patrician, killed her with his own hand in the

marketplace, and, rushing into the camp with the bloody knife, caused

the soldiers to revolt. The second section comprises Books XXI-XXIV, a

part of the narrative of the second Punic war, a military exploit the

most remarkable the world has ever seen.

The question who was the greatest general that ever lived has been a

fruitful source of discussion, and Alexander, Cæsar, and Napoleon have

each found numerous and ardent supporters. Without decrying the signal

abilities of these chiefs, it must nevertheless be remembered that

each commanded a homogeneous army and had behind him a compact nation

the most warlike and powerful of his time. The adversaries also of the

Greek and the Roman were in the one instance an effete power already

falling to pieces by its own internal weakness, and in the other, for

the most part, scattered tribes of barbarians without unity of purpose

or military discipline. Even in his civil wars Cæsar's armies were

veterans, and those of the commonwealth were, comparatively speaking,

recruits. But when the reader of these pages carefully considers

the story of Hannibal's campaign in Italy, what does he find? Two

nations--one Caucasian, young, warlike above all its contemporaries,

with a record behind it of steady aggrandizement and almost unbroken

victory, a nation every citizen of which was a soldier. On the other

side, a race of merchants Semitic in blood, a city whose citizens had

long since ceased to go to war, preferring that their gold should

fight for them by the hands of mercenaries of every race and

clime--hirelings whose ungoverned valour had proved almost as deadly

to their employers and generals as to their enemies. Above all, the

same battle had been joined before when Rome was weaker and Carthage

stronger, and Carthage had already shown her weakness and Rome her

strength.

And now in this renewed war we see a young man, aided only by a little

group of compatriots, welding together army of the most heterogeneous

elements--Spaniards, Gauls, Numidians, Moors, Greeks--men of almost

every race except his own. We see him cutting loose from his base of

supplies, leaving enemies behind him, to force his way through

hostile races, through unknown lands bristling with almost impassable

mountains and frigid with snow and ice. We see him conquering here,

making friends and allies there, and, more wonderful than all, holding

his mongrel horde together through hardships and losses by the force

of his character alone. We see him at last descending into the plains

of Italy. We see him not merely defeating but annihilating army after

army more numerous than his own and composed of better raw material.

We see him, unaided, ranging from end to end of the peninsula, none

daring to meet him with opposing standards, and the greatest general

of Rome winning laurels because he knew enough to recognise his own

hopeless inferiority. All stories of reverses other than those of mere

detachments may pretty safely be set down as the exaggeration of Roman

writers. Situated as was Hannibal, the loss of one marshalled field

would have meant immediate ruin, and ruin never came when he fought

in Italy. On the contrary, without supplies save what his sword could

take, without friends save what his genius and his fortune could win,

he maintained his place and his superiority not for one or for two but

through fourteen years, during all which time we hear no murmur

of mutiny, no hint of aught but obedience and devotion among the

incongruous and unruly elements from which he had fashioned his

invincible army; and at the end we see him leaving Italy of his own

free will, at the call of his country, to waste himself in a vain

effort to save her from the blunders of other leaders and from the

penalty of inherent weakness, which only his sword had so long warded

off.

When I consider the means, the opposition, and the achievement--a

combination of elements by which alone we can judge such questions

with even approximate fairness--I can not but feel that of all

military exploits this invasion of Italy, which we shall read of here,

was the most remarkable; that of all commanders Hannibal has shown

himself to be the greatest. Some of Livy's charges against him as a

man are doubtless true. Avarice was in his blood; and cruelty also,

though it ill became a Roman to chide an enemy on that score. Besides,

Livy himself tells how Hannibal had sought for the bodies of the

generals he had slain, that he might give them the rites of honourable

sepulture; tells it, and in the next breath relates how the Roman

commander mutilated the corpse of the fallen Hasdrubal and threw the

head into his brother's camp. So, too, his naïve explanation that

Hannibal's "more than Punic perfidy" consisted mainly of ambushes

and similar military strategies goes to show, as I have said, that

whatever is unjust in our author's estimate was rather the result of

the prejudiced deductions of national egotism than of facts wilfully

or carelessly distorted by partisan spite.

To the reader who bears well in mind the points I have ventured to

make, I predict profit hardly less than pleasure in these pages; for

Livy is perhaps the only historian who may be said to have been honest

enough to furnish much of the material for criticism of himself, and

to be, to a very considerable extent, self-adjusting.

DUFFIELD OSBORNE.

THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE [1]

Whether in tracing the history of the Roman people, from the

foundation of the city, I shall employ myself to a useful purpose, I

am neither very certain, nor, if I were, dare I say; inasmuch as I

observe that it is both an old and hackneyed practice, later authors

always supposing that they will either adduce something more authentic

in the facts, or, that they will excel the less polished ancients in

their style of writing. Be that as it may, it will, at all events,

be a satisfaction to me that I too have contributed my share to

perpetuate the achievements of a people, the lords of the world; and

if, amid so great a number of historians, my reputation should remain

in obscurity, I may console myself with the celebrity and lustre of

those who shall stand in the way of my fame. Moreover, the subject is

of immense labour, as being one which must be traced back for more

than seven hundred years, and which, having set out from small

beginnings, has increased to such a degree that it is now distressed

by its own magnitude. And, to most readers, I doubt not but that the

first origin and the events immediately succeeding, will afford but

little pleasure, while they will be hastening to these later times, in

which the strength of this overgrown people has for a long period been

working its own destruction. I, on the contrary, shall seek this, as

a reward of my labour, viz., to withdraw myself from the view of the

calamities, which our age has witnessed for so many years, so long as

I am reviewing with my whole attention these ancient times, being free

from every care that may distract a writer's mind, though it can not

warp it from the truth. The traditions that have come down to us of

what happened before the building of the city, or before its building

was contemplated, as being suitable rather to the fictions of poetry

than to the genuine records of history, I have no intention either to

affirm or to refute. This indulgence is conceded to antiquity, that by

blending things human with divine, it may make the origin of cities

appear more venerable: and if any people might be allowed to

consecrate their origin, and to ascribe it to the gods as its authors,

such is the renown of the Roman people in war, that when they

represent Mars, in particular, as their own parent and that of their

founder, the nations of the world may submit to this as patiently

as they submit to their sovereignty. But in whatever way these and

similar matters shall be attended to, or judged of, I shall not

deem it of great importance. I would have every man apply his mind

seriously to consider these points, viz., what their life and what

their manners were; through what men and by what measures, both in

peace and in war, their empire was acquired and extended; then, as

discipline gradually declined, let him follow in his thoughts their

morals, at first as slightly giving way, anon how they sunk more and

more, then began to fall headlong, until he reaches the present times,

when we can endure neither our vices nor their remedies. This it is

which is particularly salutary and profitable in the study of history,

that you behold instances of every variety of conduct displayed on a

conspicuous monument; that thence you may select for yourself and for

your country that which you may imitate; thence note what is shameful

in the undertaking, and shameful in the result, which you may avoid.

But either a fond partiality for the task I have undertaken deceives

me, or there never was any state either greater, or more moral, or

richer in good examples, nor one into which luxury and avarice made

their entrance so late, and where poverty and frugality were so much

and so long honoured; so that the less wealth there was, the less

desire was there. Of late, riches have introduced avarice and

excessive pleasures a longing for them, amid luxury and a passion for

ruining ourselves and destroying everything else. But let complaints,

which will not be agreeable even then, when perhaps they will be also

necessary, be kept aloof at least from the first stage of beginning so

great a work. We should rather, if it was usual with us (historians)

as it is with poets, begin with good omens, vows and prayers to the

gods and goddesses to vouchsafe good success to our efforts in so

arduous an undertaking.

[Footnote 1: The tone of dignified despondency which pervades this

remarkable preface tells us much. That the republican historian was

no timid or time-serving flatterer of prince or public is more than

clear, while his unerring judgment of the future should bring much of

respect for his judgment of the past. When he wrote, Rome was more

powerful than ever. Only the seeds of ruin were visible, yet he

already divines their full fruitage.--D. O.]

CONTENTS

BOOK I

THE PERIOD OF THE KINGS--B.C. 510

Arrival of Æneas in Italy--Ascanius founds Alba Longa--Birth of

Romulus and Remus--Founding the city--Rome under the kings--Death of

Lucretia--Expulsion of the Tarquins--First consuls elected

BOOK II

THE FIRST COMMONWEALTH--B.C. 509-468

Brutus establishes the republic--A conspiracy to receive the kings

into the city--Death of Brutus--Dedication of the Capitol--Battle of

Lake Regillus--Secession of the commons to the Sacred Mount--Five

tribunes of the people appointed--First proposal of an agrarian

law--Patriotism of the Fabian family--Contests of the plebeians and

patricians

BOOK III

THE DECEMVIRATE--B.C. 468-446

Disturbances over the agrarian law--Cincinnatus called from his fields

and made dictator--Number of tribunes increased to ten--Decemvirs

appointed--The ten tables--Tyranny of the decemvirs--Death of

Virginia--Re-establishment of the consular and tribunician power

LIVY'S ROMAN HISTORY

BOOK I[1]

THE PERIOD OF THE KINGS

To begin with, it is generally admitted that, after the taking of

Troy, while all the other Trojans were treated with severity, in the

case of two, Æneas and Antenor, the Greeks forbore to exercise the

full rights of war, both on account of an ancient tie of hospitality,

and because they had persistently recommended peace and the

restoration of Helen: and then Antenor, after various vicissitudes,

reached the inmost bay of the Adriatic Sea, accompanied by a body of

the Eneti, who had been driven from Paphlagonia by civil disturbance,

and were in search both of a place of settlement and a leader, their

chief Pylæmenes having perished at Troy; and that the Eneti and

Trojans, having driven out the Euganei, who dwelt between the sea and

the Alps, occupied these districts. In fact, the place where they

first landed is called Troy, and from this it is named the Trojan

canton. The nation as a whole is called Veneti. It is also agreed that

Æneas, an exile from home owing to a like misfortune, but conducted

by the fates to the founding of a greater empire, came first to

Macedonia, that he was then driven ashore at Sicily in his quest for a

settlement, and sailing thence directed his course to the territory of

Laurentum. This spot also bears the name of Troy. When the Trojans,

having disembarked there, were driving off booty from the country, as

was only natural, seeing that they had nothing left but their arms and

ships after their almost boundless wandering, Latinus the king and the

Aborigines, who then occupied these districts, assembled in arms from

the city and country to repel the violence of the new-comers. In

regard to what followed there is a twofold tradition. Some say that

Latinus, having been defeated in battle, first made peace and then

concluded an alliance with Æneas; others, that when the armies had

taken up their position in order of battle, before the trumpets

sounded, Latinus advanced to the front, and invited the leader of the

strangers to a conference. He then inquired what manner of men they

were, whence they had come, for what reasons they had left their home,

and in quest of what they had landed on Laurentine territory. After

he heard that the host were Trojans, their chief Æneas, the son of

Anchises and Venus, and that, exiled from home, their country having

been destroyed by fire, they were seeking a settlement and a site for

building a city, struck with admiration both at the noble character of

the nation and the hero, and at their spirit, ready alike for peace or

war, he ratified the pledge of future friendship by clasping hands.

Thereupon a treaty was concluded between the chiefs, and mutual

greetings passed between the armies: Æneas was hospitably entertained

at the house of Latinus; there Latinus, in the presence of his

household gods, cemented the public league by a family one, by giving

Æneas his daughter in marriage. This event fully confirmed the Trojans

in the hope of at length terminating their wanderings by a lasting and

permanent settlement. They built a town, which Æneas called Lavinium

after the name of his wife. Shortly afterward also, a son was the

issue of the recently concluded marriage, to whom his parents gave the

name of Ascanius.

Aborigines and Trojans were soon afterward the joint objects of a

hostile attack. Turnus, king of the Rutulians, to whom Lavinia had

been affianced before the arrival of Æneas, indignant that a stranger

had been preferred to himself, had made war on Æneas and Latinus

together. Neither army came out of the struggle with satisfaction. The

Rutulians were vanquished: the victorious Aborigines and Trojans lost

their leader Latinus. Thereupon Turnus and the Rutulians, mistrustful

of their strength, had recourse to the prosperous and powerful

Etruscans, and their king Mezentius, whose seat of government was at

Cære, at that time a flourishing town. Even from the outset he had

viewed with dissatisfaction the founding of a new city, and, as at

that time he considered that the Trojan power was increasing far more

than was altogether consistent with the safety of the neighbouring

peoples, he readily joined his forces in alliance with the Rutulians.

Æneas, to gain the good-will of the Aborigines in face of a war so

serious and alarming, and in order that they might all be not only

under the same laws but might also bear the same name, called both

nations Latins. In fact, subsequently, the Aborigines were not behind

the Trojans in zeal and loyalty toward their king Æneas. Accordingly,

in full reliance on this state of mind of the two nations, who were

daily becoming more and more united, and in spite of the fact that

Etruria was so powerful, that at this time it had filled with the fame

of its renown not only the land but the sea also, throughout the whole

length of Italy from the Alps to the Sicilian Strait, Æneas led out

his forces into the field, although he might have repelled their

attack by means of his fortifications. Thereupon a battle was fought,

in which victory rested with the Latins, but for Æneas it was even the

last of his acts on earth. He, by whatever name laws human and divine

demand he should be called, was buried on the banks of the river

Numicus: they call him Jupiter Indiges.

Ascanius, the son of Æneas, was not yet old enough to rule; the

government, however, remained unassailed for him till he reached the

age of maturity. In the interim, under the regency of a woman--so

great was Lavinia's capacity--the Latin state and the boy's kingdom,

inherited from his father and grandfather, was secured for him. I will

not discuss the question--for who can state as certain a matter of

such antiquity?--whether it was this Ascanius, or one older than

he, born of Creusa, before the fall of Troy, and subsequently the

companion of his father's flight, the same whom, under the name of

Iulus, the Julian family represents to be the founder of its name.

Be that as it may, this Ascanius, wherever born and of whatever

mother--it is at any rate agreed that his father was Æneas--seeing

that Lavinium was over-populated, left that city, now a flourishing

and wealthy one, considering those times, to his mother or stepmother,

and built himself a new one at the foot of the Alban mount, which,

from its situation, being built all along the ridge of a hill, was

called Alba Longa.

There was an interval of about thirty years between the founding of

Lavinium and the transplanting of the colony to Alba Longa. Yet its

power had increased to such a degree, especially owing to the

defeat of the Etruscans, that not even on the death of Æneas, nor

subsequently between the period of the regency of Lavinia, and the

first beginnings of the young prince's reign, did either Mezentius,

the Etruscans, or any other neighbouring peoples venture to take up

arms against it. Peace had been concluded on the following terms, that

the river Albula, which is now called Tiber, should be the boundary of

Latin and Etruscan territory. After him Silvius, son of Ascanius, born

by some accident in the woods, became king. He was the father of Æneas

Silvius, who afterward begot Latinus Silvius. By him several colonies

were transplanted, which were called Prisci Latini. From this time

all the princes, who ruled at Alba, bore the surname of Silvius. From

Latinus sprung Alba; from Alba, Atys; from Atys, Capys; from Capys,

Capetus; from Capetus, Tiberinus, who, having been drowned while

crossing the river Albula, gave it the name by which it was generally

known among those of later times. He was succeeded by Agrippa, son

of Tiberinus; after Agrippa, Romulus Silvius, having received

the government from his father, became king. He was killed by a

thunderbolt, and handed on the kingdom to Aventinus, who, owing to his

being buried on that hill, which now forms part of the city of Rome,

gave it its name. After him reigned Proca, who begot Numitor and

Amulius. To Numitor, who was the eldest son, he bequeathed the ancient

kingdom of the Silvian family. Force, however, prevailed more than a

father's wish or the respect due to seniority. Amulius drove out his

brother and seized the kingdom: he added crime to crime, murdered

his brother's male issue, and, under pretence of doing honour to his

brother's daughter, Rea Silvia, having chosen her a Vestal Virgin,[2]

deprived her of all hopes of issue by the obligation of perpetual

virginity.

My opinion, however, is that the origin of so great a city and an

empire next in power to that of the gods was due to the fates. The

Vestal Rea was ravished by force, and having brought forth twins,

declared Mars to be the father of her illegitimate offspring, either

because she really imagined it to be the case, or because it was less

discreditable to have committed such an offence with a god.[3] But

neither gods nor men protected either her or her offspring from the

king's cruelty. The priestess was bound and cast into prison; the king

ordered the children to be thrown into the flowing river. By some

chance which Providence seemed to direct, the Tiber, having over flown

its banks, thereby forming stagnant pools, could not be approached at

the regular course of its channel; notwithstanding it gave the bearers

of the children hope that they could be drowned in its water however

calm. Accordingly, as if they had executed the king's orders, they

exposed the boys in the nearest land-pool, where now stands the ficus

Ruminalis, which they say was called Romularis.[4] At that time the

country in those parts was a desolate wilderness. The story goes, that

when the shallow water, subsiding, had left the floating trough, in

which the children had been exposed, on dry ground, a thirsty she-wolf

from the mountains around directed her course toward the cries of the

infants, and held down her teats to them with such gentleness, that

the keeper of the king's herd found her licking the boys with her

tongue. They say that his name was Faustulus; and that they were

carried by him to his homestead and given to his wife Larentia to be

brought up. Some are of the opinion that Larentia was called Lupa

among the shepherds from her being a common prostitute, and hence an

opening was afforded for the marvellous story. The children, thus born

and thus brought up, as soon as they reached the age of youth, did

not lead a life of inactivity at home or amid the flocks, but, in the

chase, scoured the forests. Having thus gained strength, both in body

and spirit, they now were not only able to withstand wild beasts, but

attacked robbers laden with booty, and divided the spoils with the

shepherds, in whose company, as the number of their young associates

increased daily, they carried on business and pleasure.

Even in these early times it is said that the festival of the

Lupercal, as now celebrated, was solemnized on the Palatine Hill,

which was first called Pallantium, from Pallanteum, a city of Arcadia,

and afterward Mount Palatius. There Evander, who, belonging to the

above tribe of the Arcadians, had for many years before occupied

these districts, is said to have appointed the observance of a solemn

festival, introduced from Arcadia, in which naked youths ran about

doing honour in wanton sport to Pan Lycæus, who was afterward called

Inuus by the Romans. When they were engaged in this festival, as its

periodical solemnization was well known, a band of robbers, enraged at

the loss of some booty, lay in wait for them, and took Remus prisoner,

Romulus having vigorously defended himself: the captive Remus they

delivered up to King Amulius, and even went so far as to bring

accusations against him. They made it the principal charge that having

made incursions into Numitor's lands, and, having assembled a band

of young men, they had driven off their booty after the manner

of enemies. Accordingly, Remus was delivered up to Numitor for

punishment. Now from the very first Faustulus had entertained hopes

that the boys who were being brought up by him, were of royal blood:

for he both knew that the children had been exposed by the king's

orders, and that the time, at which he had taken them up, coincided

exactly with that period: but he had been unwilling to disclose

the matter, as yet not ripe for discovery, till either a fitting

opportunity or the necessity for it should arise. Necessity came

first. Accordingly, urged by fear, he disclosed the whole affair to

Romulus. By accident also, Numitor, while he had Remus in custody,

having heard that the brothers were twins, by comparing their age and

their natural disposition entirely free from servility, felt his mind

struck by the recollection of his grandchildren, and by frequent

inquiries came to the conclusion he had already formed, so that he

was not far from openly acknowledging Remus. Accordingly a plot was

concerted against the king on all sides. Romulus, not accompanied by a

body of young men--for he was not equal to open violence--but having

commanded the shepherds to come to the palace by different roads at

a fixed time, made an attack upon the king, while Remus, having got

together another party from Numitor's house, came to his assistance;

and so they slew the king.

Numitor, at the beginning of the fray, giving out that enemies had

invaded the city and attacked the palace, after he had drawn off the

Alban youth to the citadel to secure it with an armed garrison, when

he saw the young men, after they had compassed the king's death,

advancing toward him to offer congratulations, immediately summoned a

meeting of the people, and recounted his brother's unnatural behaviour

toward him, the extraction of his grandchildren, the manner of their

birth, bringing up, and recognition, and went on to inform them of the

king's death, and that he was responsible for it. The young princes

advanced through the midst of the assembly with their band in orderly

array, and, after they had saluted their grandfather as king, a

succeeding shout of approbation, issuing from the whole multitude,

ratified for him the name and authority of sovereign. The government

of Alba being thus intrusted to Numitor, Romulus and Remus were seized

with the desire of building a city on the spot where they had been

exposed and brought up. Indeed, the number of Alban and Latin

inhabitants was too great for the city; the shepherds also were

included among that population, and all these readily inspired hopes

that Alba and Lavinium would be insignificant in comparison with that

city, which was intended to be built. But desire of rule, the bane

of their grandfather, interrupted these designs, and thence arose a

shameful quarrel from a sufficiently amicable beginning. For as they

were twins, and consequently the respect for seniority could not

settle the point, they agreed to leave it to the gods, under whose

protection the place was, to choose by augury which of them should

give a name to the new city, and govern it when built. Romulus chose

the Palatine and Remus the Aventine, as points of observation for

taking the auguries.

It is said that an omen came to Remus first, six vultures; and

when, after the omen had been declared, twice that number presented

themselves to Romulus, each was hailed king by his own party, the

former claiming sovereign power on the ground of priority of time, the

latter on account of the number of birds. Thereupon, having met and

exchanged angry words, from the strife of angry feelings they turned

to bloodshed: there Remus fell from a blow received in the crowd. A

more common account is that Remus, in derision of his brother, leaped

over the newly-erected walls, and was thereupon slain by Romulus in

a fit of passion, who, mocking him, added words to this effect:"

So perish every one hereafter, who shall leap over my walls." Thus

Romulus obtained possession of supreme power for himself alone. The

city, when built, was called after the name of its founder.[5] He

first proceeded to fortify the Palatine Hill, on which he himself had

been brought up. He offered sacrifices to Hercules, according to the

Grecian rite, as they had been instituted by Evander; to the other

gods, according to the Alban rite. There is a tradition that Hercules,

having slain Geryon, drove off his oxen, which were of surpassing

beauty,[6] to that spot: and that he lay down in a grassy spot on the

banks of the river Tiber, where he had swam across, driving the cattle

before him, to refresh them with rest and luxuriant pasture, being

also himself fatigued with journeying. There, when sleep had

overpowered him, heavy as he was with food and wine, a shepherd who

dwelt in the neighbourhood, by name Cacus, priding himself on his

strength, and charmed with the beauty of the cattle, desired to carry

them off as booty; but because, if he had driven the herd in front of

him to the cave, their tracks must have conducted their owner thither

in his search, he dragged the most beautiful of them by their tails

backward into a cave. Hercules, aroused from sleep at dawn, having

looked over his herd and observed that some of their number were

missing, went straight to the nearest cave, to see whether perchance

their tracks led thither. When he saw that they were all turned away

from it and led in no other direction, troubled and not knowing what

to make up his mind to do, he commenced to drive off his herd from so

dangerous a spot. Thereupon some of the cows that were driven away,

lowed, as they usually do, when they missed those that were left; and

the lowings of those that were shut in being heard in answer from

the cave, caused Hercules to turn round. And when Cacus attempted

to prevent him by force as he was advancing toward the cave, he was

struck with a club and slain, while vainly calling upon the shepherds

to assist him. At that time Evander, who was an exile from the

Peloponnesus, governed the country more by his personal ascendancy

than by absolute sway. He was a man held in reverence on account

of the wonderful art of writing, an entirely new discovery to men

ignorant of accomplishments,[7] and still more revered on account of

the supposed divinity of his mother Carmenta, whom those peoples had

marvelled at as a prophetess before the arrival of the Sybil in Italy.

This Evander, roused by the assembling of the shepherds as they

hastily crowded round the stranger, who was charged with open murder,

after he heard an account of the deed and the cause of it, gazing

upon the personal appearance and mien of the hero, considerably more

dignified and majestic than that of a man, asked who he was. As soon

as he heard the name of the hero, and that of his father and native

country, "Hail!" said he, "Hercules, son of Jupiter! my mother,

truthful interpreter of the will of the gods, has declared to me that

thou art destined to increase the number of the heavenly beings, and

that on this spot an altar shall be dedicated to thee, which in after

ages a people most mighty on earth shall call Greatest, and honour in

accordance with rites instituted by thee." Hercules, having given him

his right hand, declared that he accepted the prophetic intimation,

and would fulfil the predictions of the fates, by building and

dedicating an altar. Thereon then for the first time sacrifice was

offered to Hercules with a choice heifer taken from the herd, the

Potitii and Pinarii, the most distinguished families who then

inhabited those parts, being invited to serve at the feast. It so

happened that the Potitii presented themselves in due time and the

entrails were set before them: but the Pinarii did not arrive until

the entrails had been eaten up, to share the remainder of the feast.

From that time it became a settled institution, that, as long as the

Pinarian family existed, they should not eat of the entrails of

the sacrificial victims. The Potitii, fully instructed by Evander,

discharged the duties of chief priests of this sacred function

for many generations, until their whole race became extinct, in

consequence of this office, the solemn prerogative of their family,

being delegated to public slaves. These were the only religious rites

that Romulus at that time adopted from those of foreign countries,

being even then an advocate of immortality won by merit, to which the

destiny marked out for him was conducting him.

The duties of religion having been thus duly completed, the people

were summoned to a public meeting: and, as they could not be united

and incorporated into one body by any other means save legal

ordinances, Romulus gave them a code of laws: and, judging that these

would only be respected by a nation of rustics, if he dignified

himself with the insignia of royalty, he clothed himself with greater

majesty--above all, by taking twelve lictors to attend him, but also

in regard to his other appointments. Some are of opinion that he was

influenced in his choice of that number by that of the birds which had

foretold that sovereign power should be his when the auguries were

taken. I myself am not indisposed to follow the opinion of those,

who are inclined to believe that it was from the neighbouring

Etruscans--from whom the curule chair and purple-bordered toga were

borrowed--that the apparitors of this class, as well as the number

itself, were introduced: and that the Etruscans employed such a number

because, as their king was elected from twelve states in common, each

state assigned him one lictor.

In the meantime, the city was enlarged by taking in various plots of

ground for the erection of buildings, while they built rather in the

hope of an increased population in the future, than in view of the

actual number of the inhabitants of the city at that time. Next, that

the size of the city might not be without efficiency, in order to

increase the population, following the ancient policy of founders of

cities, who, by bringing together to their side a mean and ignoble

multitude, were in the habit of falsely asserting that an offspring

was born to them from the earth, he opened as a sanctuary the place

which, now inclosed, is known as the "two groves," and which people

come upon when descending from the Capitol. Thither, a crowd of all

classes from the neighbouring peoples, without distinction, whether

freemen or slaves, eager for change, flocked for refuge, and therein

lay the foundation of the city's strength, corresponding to the

commencement of its enlargement. Having now no reason to be

dissatisfied with his strength, he next instituted a standing council

to direct that strength. He created one hundred senators, either

because that number was sufficient, or because there were only one

hundred who could be so elected. Anyhow they were called fathers[8],

by way of respect, and their descendants patricians.

By this time the Roman state was so powerful, that it was a match for

any of the neighbouring states in war: but owing to the scarcity of

women its greatness was not likely to outlast the existing generation,

seeing that the Romans had no hope of issue at home, and they did

not intermarry with their neighbours. So then, by the advice of the

senators, Romulus sent around ambassadors to the neighbouring states,

to solicit an alliance and the right of intermarriage for his new

subjects, saying, that cities, like everything else, rose from the

humblest beginnings: next, that those which the gods and their own

merits assisted, gained for themselves great power and high renown:

that he knew full well that the gods had aided the first beginnings of

Rome and that merit on their part would not be wanting: therefore, as

men, let them not be reluctant to mix their blood and stock with men.

The embassy nowhere obtained a favourable hearing: but, although the

neighbouring peoples treated it with such contempt, yet at the same

time they dreaded the growth of such a mighty power in their midst to

the danger of themselves and of their posterity. In most cases when

they were dismissed they were asked the question, whether they had

opened a sanctuary for women also: for that in that way only could

they obtain suitable matches.

The Roman youths were bitterly indignant at this, and the matter began

unmistakably to point to open violence. Romulus in order to provide a

fitting opportunity and place for this, dissembling his resentment,

with this purpose in view, instituted games to be solemnized every

year in honour of Neptunus Equester, which he called Consualia. He

then ordered the show to be proclaimed among the neighbouring peoples;

and the Romans prepared to solemnize it with all the pomp with which

they were then acquainted or were able to exhibit, in order to make

the spectacle famous, and an object of expectation. Great numbers

assembled, being also desirous of seeing the new city, especially all

the nearest peoples, the Caeninenses, Crustumini, and Antemnates: the

entire Sabine population attended with their wives and children. They

were hospitably invited to the different houses: and, when they saw

the position of the city, its fortified walls, and how crowded with

houses it was, they were astonished that the power of Rome had

increased so rapidly. When the time of the show arrived, and their

eyes and minds alike were intent upon it, then, according to

preconcerted arrangement, a disturbance was made, and, at a given

signal, the Roman youths rushed in different directions to carry off

the unmarried women. A great number were carried off at hap-hazard, by

those into whose hands they severally fell: some of the common people,

to whom the task had been assigned, conveyed to their homes certain

women of surpassing beauty, who were destined for the leading

senators. They say that one, far distinguished beyond the rest in form

and beauty, was carried off by the party of a certain Talassius, and

that, when several people wanted to know to whom they were carrying

her, a cry was raised from time to time, to prevent her being

molested, that she was being carried to Talassius: and that from this

the word was used in connection with marriages. The festival being

disturbed by the alarm thus caused, the sorrowing parents of the

maidens retired, complaining of the violated compact of hospitality,

and invoking the god, to whose solemn festival and games they had

come, having been deceived by the pretence of religion and good faith.

Nor did the maidens entertain better hopes for themselves, or feel

less indignation. Romulus, however, went about in person and pointed

out that what had happened was due to the pride of their fathers,

in that they had refused the privilege of intermarriage to their

neighbours; but that, notwithstanding, they would be lawfully wedded,

and enjoy a share of all their possessions and civil rights, and--a

thing dearer than all else to the human race--the society of their

common children: only let them calm their angry feelings, and bestow

their affections on those on whom fortune had bestowed their bodies.

Esteem (said he) often arose subsequent to wrong: and they would find

them better husbands for the reason that each of them would endeavour,

to the utmost of his power, after having discharged, as far as his

part was concerned, the duty of a husband, to quiet the longing for

country and parents. To this the blandishments of the husbands were

added, who excused what had been done on the plea of passion and love,

a form of entreaty that works most successfully upon the feelings of

women.[9]

By this time the minds of the maidens were considerably soothed, but

their parents, especially by putting on the garb of mourning, and by

their tears and complaints, stirred up the neighbouring states. Nor

did they confine their feelings of indignation to their own home

only, but they flocked from all quarters to Titus Tatius, king of the

Sabines, and embassies crowded thither, because the name of Tatius

was held in the greatest esteem in those quarters. The Caeninenses,

Crustumini, and Antemnates were the people who were chiefly affected

by the outrage. As Tatius and the Sabines appeared to them to be

acting in too dilatory a manner, these three peoples by mutual

agreement among themselves made preparations for war unaided. However,

not even the Crustumini and Antemnates bestirred themselves with

sufficient activity to satisfy the hot-headedness and anger of the

Caeninenses: accordingly the people of Caenina, unaided, themselves

attacked the Roman territory. But Romulus with his army met them

while they were ravaging the country in straggling parties, and in

a trifling engagement convinced them that anger unaccompanied by

strength is fruitless. He routed their army and put it to flight,

followed in pursuit of it when routed, cut down their king in battle

and stripped him of his armour, and, having slain the enemy's leader,

took the city at the first assault. Then, having led back his

victorious army, being a man both distinguished for his achievements,

and one equally skilful at putting them in the most favourable light,

he ascended the Capitol, carrying suspended on a portable frame,

cleverly contrived for that purpose, the spoils of the enemy's

general, whom he had slain: there, having laid them down at the foot

of an oak held sacred by the shepherds, at the same time that he

presented the offering, he marked out the boundaries for a temple of

Jupiter, and bestowed a surname on the god. "Jupiter Feretrius," said

he, "I, King Romulus, victorious over my foes, offer to thee these

royal arms, and dedicate to thee a temple within those quarters, which

I have just now marked out in my mind, to be a resting-place for the

spolia opima, which posterity, following my example, shall bring

hither on slaying the kings or generals of the enemy." This is the

origin of that temple, the first that was ever consecrated at Rome. It

was afterward the will of the gods that neither the utterances of

the founder of the temple, in which he solemnly declared that his

posterity would bring such spoils thither, should be spoken in vain,

and that the honour of the offering should not be rendered common

owing to the number of those who enjoyed it. In the course of so many

years and so many wars the spolia opima were only twice gained: so

rare has been the successful attainment of this honour.[10]

While the Romans were thus engaged in those parts, the army of the

Antemnates made a hostile attack upon the Roman territories, seizing

the opportunity when they were left unguarded. Against these in like

manner a Roman legion was led out in haste and surprised them while

straggling in the country. Thus the enemy were routed at the first

shout and charge: their town was taken: Romulus, amid his rejoicings

at this double victory, was entreated by his wife Hersilia, in

consequence of the importunities of the captured women, to pardon

their fathers and admit them to the privileges of citizenship; that

the commonwealth could thus be knit together by reconciliation.

The request was readily granted. After that he set out against the

Crustumini, who were beginning hostilities: in their case, as their

courage had been damped by the disasters of others, the struggle was

less keen. Colonies were sent to both places: more, however, were

found to give in their names for Crustuminum, because of the fertility

of the soil. Great numbers also migrated from thence to Rome, chiefly

of the parents and relatives of the women who had been carried off.

The last war broke out on the part of the Sabines, and this was by far

the most formidable: for nothing was done under the influence of anger

or covetousness, nor did they give indications of hostilities before

they had actually begun them. Cunning also was combined with prudence.

Spurius Tarpeius was in command of the Roman citadel: his maiden

daughter, who at the time had gone by chance outside the walls to

fetch water for sacrifice, was bribed by Tatius, to admit some armed

soldiers into the citadel. After they were admitted, they crushed her

to death by heaping their arms upon her: either that the citadel might

rather appear to have been taken by storm, or for the sake of setting

forth a warning, that faith should never on any occasion be kept with

a betrayer. The following addition is made to the story: that, as the

Sabines usually wore golden bracelets of great weight on their left

arm and rings of great beauty set with precious stones, she bargained

with them for what they had on their left hands; and that therefore

shields were heaped upon her instead of presents of gold. Some say

that, in accordance with the agreement that they should deliver up

what was on their left hands, she expressly demanded their shields,

and that, as she seemed to be acting treacherously, she herself was

slain by the reward she had chosen for herself.

Be that as it may, the Sabines held the citadel, and on the next day,

when the Roman army, drawn up in order of battle, had occupied all the

valley between the Palatine and Capitoline Hills, they did not descend

from thence into the plain until the Romans, stimulated by resentment

and the desire of recovering the citadel, advanced up hill to meet

them. The chiefs on both sides encouraged the fight, on the side

of the Sabines Mettius Curtius, on the side of the Romans Hostius

Hostilius. The latter, in the front of the battle, on unfavourable

ground, supported the fortunes of the Romans by his courage and

boldness. When Hostius fell, the Roman line immediately gave way,

and, being routed, was driven as far as the old gate of the Palatium.

Romulus himself also, carried away by the crowd of fugitives, cried,

uplifting his arms to heaven: "O Jupiter, it was at the bidding of thy

omens, that here on the Palatine I laid the first foundations for the

city. The citadel, purchased by crime, is now in possession of the

Sabines: thence they are advancing hither in arms, having passed the

valley between. But do thou, O father of gods and men, keep back the

enemy from hence at least, dispel the terror of the Romans, and check

their disgraceful flight. On this spot I vow to build a temple to thee

as Jupiter Stator, to be a monument to posterity that the city has

been preserved by thy ready aid." Having offered up these prayers,

as if he had felt that they had been heard, he cried: "From this

position, O Romans, Jupiter, greatest and best, bids you halt and

renew the fight." The Romans halted as if ordered by a voice from

heaven. Romulus himself hastened to the front. Mettius Curtius, on the

side of the Sabines, had rushed down from the citadel at the head of

his troops and driven the Romans in disordered array over the whole

space of ground where the Forum now is. He had almost reached the

gate of the Palatium, crying out: "We have conquered our perfidious

friends, our cowardly foes: now they know that fighting with men is a

very different thing from ravishing maidens." Upon him, as he uttered

these boasts, Romulus made an attack with a band of his bravest

youths. Mettius then happened to be fighting on horseback: on that

account his repulse was easier. When he was driven back, the Romans

followed in pursuit: and the remainder of the Roman army, fired by the

bravery of the king, routed the Sabines. Mettius, his horse taking

fright at the noise of his pursuers, rode headlong into a morass: this

circumstance drew off the attention of the Sabines also at the danger

of so high a personage. He indeed, his own party beckoning and calling

to him, gaining heart from the encouraging shouts of many of his

friends, made good his escape. The Romans and Sabines renewed the

battle in the valley between the two hills: but the advantage rested

with the Romans.

At this crisis the Sabine women, from the outrage on whom the war had

arisen, with dishevelled hair and torn garments, the timidity natural

to women being overcome by the sense of their calamities, were

emboldened to fling themselves into the midst of the flying weapons,

and, rushing across, to part the incensed combatants and assuage their

wrath: imploring their fathers on the one hand and their husbands

on the other, as fathers-in-law and sons-in-law, not to besprinkle

themselves with impious blood, nor to fix the stain of murder on their

offspring, the one side on their grandchildren, the other on their

children. "If," said they, "you are dissatisfied with the relationship

between you, and with our marriage, turn your resentment against us;

it is we who are the cause of war, of wounds and bloodshed to our

husbands and parents: it will be better for us to perish than to

live widowed or orphans without one or other of you." This incident

affected both the people and the leaders; silence and sudden quiet

followed; the leaders thereupon came forward to conclude a treaty;

and not only concluded a peace, but formed one state out of two. They

united the kingly power, but transferred the entire sovereignty to

Rome. Rome having thus been made a double state, that some benefit at

least might be conferred on the Sabines, they were called Quirites

from Cures. To serve as a memorial of that battle, they called the

place--where Curtius, after having emerged from the deep morass, set

his horse in shallow water--the Lacus Curtius.[11]

This welcome peace, following suddenly on so melancholy a war,

endeared the Sabine women still more to their husbands and parents,

and above all to Romulus himself. Accordingly, when dividing the

people into thirty curiae, he called the curiae after their names.

While the number of the women were undoubtedly considerably greater

than this, it is not recorded whether they were chosen for their age,

their own rank or that of their husbands, or by lot, to give names

to the curiae. At the same time also three centuries of knights were

enrolled: the Ramnenses were so called from Romulus, the Titienses

from Titus Tatius: in regard to the Luceres, the meaning of the name

and its origin is uncertain.[12] From that time forward the two kings

enjoyed the regal power not only in common, but also in perfect

harmony.

Several years afterward, some relatives of King Tatius ill-treated

the Ambassadors of the Laurentines, and on the Laurentines beginning

proceedings according to the rights of nations, the influence and

entreaties of his friends had more weight with Tatius. In this manner

he drew upon himself the punishment that should have fallen upon them:

for, having gone to Lavinium on the occasion of a regularly recurring

sacrifice, he was slain in a disturbance which took place there. They

say that Romulus resented this less than the event demanded, either

because partnership in sovereign power is never cordially kept up, or

because he thought that he had been deservedly slain. Accordingly,

while he abstained from going to war, the treaty between the cities

of Rome and Lavinium was renewed, that at any rate the wrongs of the

ambassadors and the murder of the king might be expiated.

With these people, indeed, there was peace contrary to expectations:

but another war broke out much nearer home and almost at the city's

gates. The Fidenates,[13] being of opinion that a power in too close

proximity to themselves was gaining strength, hastened to make war

before the power of the Romans should attain the greatness it was

evidently destined to reach. An armed band of youths was sent into

Roman territory and all the territories between the city and the

Fidenae was ravaged. Then, turning to the left, because on the right

the Tiber was a barrier against them, they continued to ravage the

country, to the great consternation of the peasantry: the sudden

alarm, reaching the city from the country, was the first announcement

of the invasion. Romulus aroused by this--for a war so near home could

not brook delay--led out his army, and pitched his camp a mile from

Fidenae. Having left a small garrison there, he marched out with all

his forces and gave orders that a part of them should lie in ambush in

a spot hidden amid bushes planted thickly around; he himself advancing

with the greater part of the infantry and all the cavalry, by riding

up almost to the very gates, drew out the enemy--which was just what

he wanted--by a mode of battle of a disorderly and threatening nature.

The same tactics on the part of the cavalry caused the flight, which

it was necessary to pretend, to appear less surprising: and when, as

the cavalry appeared undecided whether to make up its mind to fight or

flee, the infantry also retreated--the enemy, pouring forth suddenly

through the crowded gates, were drawn toward the place of ambuscade,

in their eagerness to press on and pursue, after they had broken the

Roman line. Thereupon the Romans, suddenly arising, attacked the

enemy's line in flanks; the advance from the camp of the standards of

those, who had been left behind on guard, increased the panic: thus

the Fidenates, smitten with terror from many quarters, took to flight

almost before Romulus and the cavalry who accompanied him could wheel

round: and those who a little before had been in pursuit of men who

pretended flight, made for the town again in much greater disorder,

seeing that their flight was real. They did not, however, escape the

foe: the Romans, pressing closely on their rear, rushed in as if it

were in one body, before the doors of the gates could be shut against

them.

The minds of the inhabitants of Veii,[14] being exasperated by the

infectious influence of the Fidenatian war, both from the tie of

kinship--for the Fidenates also were Etruscans--and because the very

proximity of the scene of action, in the event of the Roman arms being

directed against all their neighbours, urged them on, they sallied

forth into the Roman territories, rather with the object of plundering

than after the manner of a regular war. Accordingly, without pitching

a camp, or waiting for the enemy's army, they returned to Veii, taking

with them the booty they had carried off from the lands; the Roman

army, on the other hand, when they did not find the enemy in the

country, being ready and eager for a decisive action, crossed the

Tiber. And when the Veientes heard that they were pitching a camp, and

intended to advance to the city, they came out to meet them that they

might rather decide the matter in the open field, than be shut up and

have to fight from their houses and walls. In this engagement the

Roman king gained the victory, his power being unassisted by any

stratagem, by the unaided strength of his veteran army: and having

pursued the routed enemies up to their walls, he refrained from

attacking the city, which was strongly fortified and well defended

by its natural advantages: on his return he laid waste their lands,

rather from a desire of revenge than of booty. The Veientes, humbled

by that loss no less than by the unsuccessful issue of the battle,

sent ambassadors to Rome to sue for peace. A truce for one hundred

years was granted them, after they had been mulcted in a part of their

territory. These were essentially the chief events of the reign of

Romulus, in peace and in war, none of which seemed inconsistent with

the belief of his divine origin, or of his deification after death,

neither the spirit he showed in recovering his grandfather's kingdom,

nor his wisdom in building a city, and afterward strengthening it by

the arts of war and peace. For assuredly it was by the power that

Romulus gave it that it became so powerful, that for forty years after

it enjoyed unbroken peace. He was, however, dearer to the people than

to the fathers: above all others he was most beloved by the soldiers:

of these he kept three hundred, whom he called Celeres, armed to serve

as a body-guard not only in time of war but also of peace.

Having accomplished these works deserving of immortality, while he was

holding an assembly of the people for reviewing his army, in the plain

near the Goat's pool, a storm suddenly came on, accompanied by loud

thunder and lightning, and enveloped the king in so dense a mist, that

it entirely hid him from the sight of the assembly. After this Romulus

was never seen again upon earth. The feeling of consternation having

at length calmed down, and the weather having become clear and fine

again after so stormy a day, the Roman youth seeing the royal seat

empty--though they readily believed the words of the fathers who

had stood nearest him, that he had been carried up to heaven by the

storm--yet, struck as it were with the fear of being fatherless, for a

considerable time preserved a sorrowful silence. Then, after a few had

set the example, the whole multitude saluted Romulus as a god, the son

of a god, the king and parent of the Roman city; they implored his

favour with prayers, that with gracious kindness he would always

preserve his offspring. I believe that even then there were some, who

in secret were convinced that the king had been torn in pieces by the

hands of the fathers--for this rumour also spread, but it was very

doubtfully received; admiration for the man, however, and the awe felt

at the moment, gave greater notoriety to the other report. Also by the

clever idea of one individual, additional confirmation is said to have

been attached to the occurrence. For Proculus Julius, while the state

was still troubled at the loss of the king, and incensed against the

senators, a weighty authority, as we are told, in any matter however

important, came forward into the assembly. "Quirites," said he,

"Romulus, the father of this city, suddenly descending from heaven,

appeared to me this day at daybreak. While I stood filled with dread,

and religious awe, beseeching him to allow me to look upon him face to

face, 'Go,' said he, 'tell the Romans, that the gods so will, that

my Rome should become the capital of the world. Therefore let them

cultivate the art of war, and let them know and so hand it down to

posterity, that no human power can withstand the Roman arms.' Having

said this, he vanished up to heaven." It is surprising what credit was

given to that person when he made the announcement, and how much the

regret of the common people and army for the loss of Romulus was

assuaged when the certainty of his immortality was confirmed.[15]

Meanwhile[16] contention for the throne and ambition engaged the minds

of the fathers; the struggle was not as yet carried on by individuals,

by violence or contending factions, because, among a new people, no

one person was pre-eminently distinguished; the contest was carried on

between the different orders. The descendants of the Sabines wished a

king to be elected from their own body, lest, because there had been

no king from their own party since the death of Tatius, they might

lose their claim to the crown although both were on an equal footing.

The old Romans spurned the idea of a foreign prince. Amid this

diversity of views, however, all were anxious to be under the

government of a king, as they had not yet experienced the delights of

liberty. Fear then seized the senators, lest, as the minds of many

surrounding states were incensed against them, some foreign power

should attack the state, now without a government, and the army, now

without a leader. Therefore, although they were agreed that there

should be some head, yet none could bring himself to give way to

another. Accordingly, the hundred senators divided the government

among themselves, ten decuries being formed, and the individual

members who were to have the chief direction of affairs being chosen

into each decury.[17] Ten governed; one only was attended by the

lictors and with the insignia of authority: their power was limited to

the space of five days, and conferred upon all in rotation, and the

interval between the government of a king lasted a year. From this

fact it was called an interregnum, a term which is employed even now.

Then the people began to murmur, that their slavery was multiplied,

and that they had now a hundred sovereigns instead of one, and they

seemed determined to submit to no authority but that of a king, and

that one appointed by themselves. When the fathers perceived that such

schemes were on foot, thinking it advisable to offer them, without

being asked, what they were sure to lose, they conciliated the

good-will of the people by yielding to them the supreme power, yet in

such a manner as to surrender no greater privilege than they reserved

to themselves. For they decreed, that when the people had chosen a

king, the election should be valid, if the senate gave the sanction of

their authority. And even to this day the same forms are observed in

proposing laws and magistrates, though their power has been taken

away; for before the people begin to vote, the senators ratify their

choice, even while the result of the elections is still uncertain.

Then the interrex, having summoned an assembly of the people,

addressed them as follows: "Do you, Quirites, choose yourselves a

king, and may this choice prove fortunate, happy, and auspicious; such

is the will of the fathers. Then, if you shall choose a prince worthy

to be reckoned next after Romulus, the fathers will ratify your

choice." This concession was so pleasing to the people, that, not to

appear outdone in generosity, they only voted and ordained that the

senate should determine who should be king at Rome.

The justice and piety of Numa Pompilius was at that time celebrated.

He dwelt at Cures, a city of the Sabines, and was as eminently learned

in all law, human and divine, as any man could be in that age. They

falsely represent that Pythagoras of Samos was his instructor in

learning, because there appears no other. Now it is certain that this

philosopher, in the reign of Servius Tullius, more than a hundred

years after this, held assemblies of young men, who eagerly

embraced his doctrines, on the most distant shore of Italy, in the

neighbourhood of Metapontum, Heraclea, and Croton. But from these

places, even had he flourished in the same age, what fame of his could

have reached the Sabines? or by what intercourse of language could it

have aroused any one to a desire of learning? Or by what safeguard

could a single man have passed through the midst of so many nations

differing in language and customs? I am therefore rather inclined to

believe that his mind, owing to his natural bent, was attempered by

virtuous qualities, and that he was not so much versed in foreign

systems of philosophy as in the stern and gloomy training of the

ancient Sabines, a race than which none was in former times more

strict. When they heard the name of Numa, although the Roman fathers

perceived that the balance of power would incline to the Sabines if

a king were chosen from them, yet none of them ventured to prefer

himself, or any other member of his party, or, in fine, any of the

citizens or fathers, to a man so well known, but unanimously resolved

that the kingdom should be offered to Numa Pompilius. Being sent for,

just as Romulus obtained the throne by the augury in accordance with

which he founded the city, so Numa in like manner commanded the gods

to be consulted concerning himself. Upon this, being escorted into the

citadel by an augur, to whose profession that office was later made

a public and perpetual one by way of honour, he sat down on a stone

facing the south: the augur took his seaton his left hand with his

head covered, holding in his right a crooked wand free from knots,

called lituus; then, after having taken a view over the city and

country, and offered a prayer to the gods, he defined the bounds of

the regions of the sky from east to west: the parts toward the south

he called the right, those toward the north, the left; and in front of

him he marked out in his mind the sign as far as ever his eyes could

see. Then having shifted the lituus into his left hand, and placed

his right on the head of Numa, he prayed after this manner: "O father

Jupiter, if it be thy will that this Numa Pompilius, whose head I

hold, be king of Rome, mayest thou manifest infallible signs to us

within those bounds which I have marked." Then he stated in set terms

the auspices which he wished to be sent: on their being sent, Numa was

declared king and came down from the seat of augury.

Having thus obtained the kingdom, he set about establishing anew, on

the principles of law and morality, the newly founded city that had

been already established by force of arms. When he saw that the

inhabitants, inasmuch as men's minds are brutalized by military life,

could not become reconciled to such principles during the continuance

of wars, considering that the savage nature of the people must

be toned down by the disuse of arms, he erected at the foot of

Argiletum[18] a temple of Janus, as a sign of peace and war, that when

open, it might show that the state was engaged in war, and when shut,

that all the surrounding nations were at peace. Twice only since the

reign of Numa has this temple been shut: once when Titus Manlius was

consul, after the conclusion of the first Punic war; and a second

time, which the gods granted our generation to behold, by the Emperor

Cæsar Augustus, after the battle of Actium, when peace was established

by land and sea. This being shut, after he had secured the friendship

of all the neighbouring states around by alliance and treaties, all

anxiety regarding dangers from abroad being now removed, in order to

prevent their minds, which the fear of enemies and military discipline

had kept in check, running riot from too much leisure, he considered,

that, first of all, awe of the gods should be instilled into them,

a principle of the greatest efficacy in dealing with the multitude,

ignorant and uncivilized as it was in those times. But as this fear

could not sink deeply into their minds without some fiction of a

miracle, he pretended that he held nightly interviews with the goddess

Egeria; that by her direction he instituted sacred rites such as would

be most acceptable to the gods, and appointed their own priests for

each of the deities. And, first of all, he divided the year into

twelve months, according to the courses of the moon;[19] and because

the moon does not fill up the number of thirty days in each month, and

some days are wanting to the complete year, which is brought round by

the solstitial revolution, he so regulated this year, by inserting

intercalary months, that every twentieth year, the lengths of all the

intermediate years being filled up, the days corresponded with the

same starting-point of the sun whence they had set out. He likewise

divided days into sacred and profane, because on certain occasions it

was likely to be expedient that no business should be transacted with

the people.

Next he turned his attention to the appointment of priests, though he

discharged many sacred functions himself, especially those which now

belong to the flamen of Jupiter. But, as he imagined that in a warlike

nation there would be more kings resembling Romulus than Numa,

and that they would go to war in person, in order that the sacred

functions of the royal office might not be neglected, he appointed a

perpetual priest as flamen to Jupiter, and distinguished him by a fine

robe, and a royal curule chair. To him he added two other flamens, one

for Mars, another for Quirinus. He also chose virgins for Vesta, a

priesthood derived from Alba, and not foreign to the family of the

founder. That they might be constant attendants in the temple, he

appointed them pay out of the public treasury; and by enjoining

virginity, and various religious observances, he made them sacred and

venerable. He also chose twelve Salii for Mars Gradivus, and gave them

the distinction of an embroidered tunic, and over the tunic a brazen

covering for the breast. He commanded them to carry the shields called

Ancilia,[20] which fell fromheaven, and to go through the city singing

songs, with leaping and solemn dancing. Then he chose from the fathers

Numa Marcius, son of Marcius, as pontiff, and consigned to him a

complete system of religious rites written out and recorded, showing

with what victims, upon what days, and at what temples the sacred

rites were to be performed, and from what funds the money was to be

taken to defray the expenses. He also placed all other religious

institutions, public and private, under the control of the decrees of

the pontiff, to the end that there might be some authority to whom

the people should come to ask advice, to prevent any confusion in the

divine worship being caused by their neglecting the ceremonies of

their own country, and adopting foreign ones. He further ordained that

the same pontiff should instruct the people not only in the ceremonies

connected with the heavenly deities, but also in the due performance

of funeral solemnities, and how to appease the shades of the dead; and

what prodigies sent by lightning or any other phenomenon were to be

attended to and expiated. To draw forth such knowledge from the minds

of the gods, he dedicated an altar on the Aventine to Jupiter Elicius,

and consulted the god by means of auguries as to what prodigies ought

to be attended to.

The attention of the whole people having been thus diverted from

violence and arms to the deliberation and adjustment of these matters,

both their minds were engaged in some occupation, and the watchfulness

of the gods now constantly impressed upon them, as the deity of heaven

seemed to interest itself in human concerns, had filled the breasts of

all with such piety, that faith and religious obligations governed the

state, the dread of laws and punishments being regarded as secondary.

And while the people of their own accord were forming themselves on

the model of the king, as the most excellent example, the neighbouring

states also, who had formerly thought that it was a camp, not a city,

that had been established in their midst to disturb the general peace,

were brought to feel such respect for them that they considered it

impious to molest a state, wholly occupied in the worship of the gods.

There was a grove, the middle of which was irrigated by a spring of

running water, flowing from a dark grotto. As Numa often repaired

thither unattended, under pretence of meeting the goddess, he

dedicated the grove to the Camenae, because, as he asserted, their

meetings with his wife Egeria were held there. He also instituted a

yearly festival to Faith alone, and commanded her priests to be driven

to the chapel erected for the purpose in an arched chariot drawn by

two horses, and to perform the divine service with their hands wrapped

up to the fingers, intimating that Faith ought to be protected, and

that even her seat in men's right hands was sacred. He instituted many

other sacred rites, and dedicated places for performing them, which

the priests call Argei. But the greatest of all his works was the

maintenance of peace during the whole period of his reign, no less

than of his royal power. Thus two kings in succession, by different

methods, the one by war, the other by peace, aggrandized the state.

Romulus reigned thirty-seven years, Numa forty-three: the state was

both strong and attempered by the arts both of war and peace.

Upon the death of Numa, the administration returned again to an

interregnum. After that the people appointed as King Tullus Hostilius,

the grandson of that Hostilius who had made the noble stand against

the Sabines at the foot of the citadel: the fathers confirmed the

choice. He was not only unlike the preceding king, but even of a more

warlike disposition than Romulus. Both his youth and strength, and,

further, the renown of his grandfather, stimulated his ambition.

Thinking therefore that the state was deteriorating through ease,

he everywhere sought for an opportunity of stirring up war. It so

happened that some Roman and Alban peasants mutually plundered each

other's lands. Gaius Cluilius at that time was in power at Alba. From

both sides ambassadors were sent almost at the same time, to demand

satisfaction. Tullus had ordered his representatives to attend to

their instructions before anything else. He knew well that the Alban

would refuse, and so war might be proclaimed with a clear conscience.

Their commission was executed in a more dilatory manner by the Albans:

being courteously and kindly entertained by Tullus, they gladly took

advantage of the king's hospitality. Meanwhile the Romans had both

been first in demanding satisfaction, and upon the refusal of the

Alban, had proclaimed war upon the expiration of thirty days: of this

they gave Tullus notice. Thereupon he granted the Alban ambassadors an

opportunity of stating with what demands they came. They, ignorant of

everything, at first wasted some time in making excuses: That it was

with reluctance they would say anything which might be displeasing

to Tullus, but they were compelled by orders: that they had come to

demand satisfaction: if this was not granted, they were commanded to

declare war. To this Tullus made answer, "Go tell your king, that the

king of the Romans takes the gods to witness, that, whichever of the

two nations shall have first dismissed with contempt the ambassadors

demanding satisfaction, from it they [the gods] may exact atonement

for the disasters of this war." This message the Albans carried home.

Preparations were made on both sides with the utmost vigour for a war

very like a civil one, in a manner between parents and children, both

being of Trojan stock: for from Troy came Lavinium, from Lavinium,

Alba, and the Romans were descended from the stock of the Alban kings.

However, the result of the war rendered the quarrel less distressing,

for the struggle never came to regular action, and when the buildings

only of one of the cities had been demolished, the two states were

incorporated into one. The Albans first invaded the Roman territories

with a large army. They pitched their camp not more than five miles

from the city, and surrounded it with a trench, which, for several

ages, was called the Cluilian trench, from the name of the general,

till, by lapse of time, the name, as well as the event itself, was

forgotten. In that camp Cluilius, the Alban king, died: the Albans

created Mettius Fufetius dictator. In the meantime Tullus, exultant,

especially at the death of the king, and giving out that the supreme

power of the gods, having begun at the head, would take vengeance on

the whole Alban nation for this impious war, having passed the enemy's

camp in the night-time, marched with a hostile army into the Alban

territory. This circumstance drew out Mettius from his camp: he led

his forces as close as possible to the enemy; thence he despatched

a herald and commanded him to tell Tullus that a conference was

expedient before they came to an engagement; and that, if he would

give him a meeting, he was certain he would bring forward matters

which concerned the interests of Rome no less than of Alba. Tullus did

not reject the offer: nevertheless, in case the proposals made should

prove fruitless, he led out his men in order of battle: the Albans

on their side marched out also. After both armies stood drawn up

in battle array, the chiefs, with a few of the principal officers,

advanced into the midst. Then the Alban began as follows: "That

injuries and the non-restitution of property claimed according to

treaty is the cause of this war, methinks I have both heard our king

Cluilius assert, and I doubt not, Tullus, but that you allege the

same. But if the truth must be told, rather than what is plausible, it

is thirst for rule that provokes two kindred and neighbouring states

to arms. Whether rightly or wrongly, I do not take upon myself to

determine: let the consideration of that rest with him who has begun

the war. As for myself, the Albans have only made me their leader for

carrying on that war. Of this, Tullus, I would have you advised: how

powerful the Etruscan state is around us, and around you particularly,

you know better than we, inasmuch as you are nearer to them. They are

very powerful by land, far more so by sea. Recollect that, directly

you shall give the signal for battle, these two armies will be the

object of their attention, that they may fall on us when wearied and

exhausted, victor and vanquished together. Therefore, for the love of

heaven, since, not content with a sure independence, we are running

the doubtful hazard of sovereignty and slavery, let us adopt some

method, whereby, without great loss, without much bloodshed of either

nation, it may be decided which is to rule the other." The proposal

was not displeasing to Tullus, though both from his natural bent, as

also from the hope of victory, he was rather inclined to violence.

After consideration, on both sides, a plan was adopted, for which

Fortune herself afforded the means of execution.

It happened that there were in the two armies at that time three

brothers born at one birth, neither in age nor strength ill-matched.

That they were called Horatii and Curiatii is certain enough, and

there is hardly any fact of antiquity more generally known; yet in a

manner so well ascertained, a doubt remains concerning their names, as

to which nation the Horatii, to which the Curiatii belonged. Authors

incline to both sides, yet I find a majority who call the Horatii

Romans: my own inclination leads me to follow them. The kings arranged

with the three brothers that they should fight with swords each in

defence of their respective country; assuring them that dominion

would rest with those on whose side victory should declare itself. No

objection was raised; the time and place were agreed upon. Before the

engagement began, a compact was entered into between the Romans and

Albans on these conditions, that that state, whose champions should

come off victorious in the combat, should rule the other state without

further dispute. Different treaties are made on different conditions,

but in general they are all concluded with the same formalities. We

have heard that the treaty in question was then concluded as follows,

nor is there extant a more ancient record of any treaty. The herald

asked King Tullus, "Dost thou command me, O king, to conclude a

treaty with the pater patratus of the Alban people?" On the king so

commanding him he said, "I demand vervain of thee, O king." The king

replied, "Take some that is pure." The herald brought a pure blade of

grass from the citadel; then again he asked the king, "Dost thou, O

king, appoint me the royal delegate of the Roman people, the Quirites,

and my appurtenances and attendants?" The king replied, "So far as

it may be done without detriment to me and to the Roman people, the

Quirites, I do so." The herald was Marcus Valerius, who appointed

Spurius Fusius pater patratus,[21] touching his head and hair with

the vervain.[22] The pater patratus was appointed ad iusiurandum

patrandum, that is, to ratify the treaty; and he went through it in a

lengthy preamble, which, being expressed in a long set form, it is not

worth while to repeat. After having set forth the conditions, he said:

"Hear, O Jupiter; hear, O pater patratus of the Alban people, and ye,

O Alban people, give ear. As those conditions, from first to last,

have been publicly recited from those tablets or wax without wicked

or fraudulent intent, and as they have been most correctly understood

here this day, the Roman people will not be the first to fail to

observe those conditions. If they shall be the first to do so by

public consent, by fraudulent intent, on that day do thou, O Jupiter,

so strike the Roman people, as I shall here this day strike this

swine; and do thou strike them so much the more, as thou art more

mighty and more powerful." When he said this, he struck the swine with

a flint stone. The Albans likewise went through their own set form and

oath by the mouth of their own dictator and priests.

The treaty being concluded, the twin-brothers, as had been agreed,

took arms. While their respective friends exhorted each party,

reminding them that their country's gods, their country and parents,

all their fellow-citizens both at home and in the army, had their eyes

then fixed on their arms, on their hands, being both naturally brave,

and animated by the shouts and exhortations of their friends, they

advanced into the midst between the two lines. The two armies on both

sides had taken their seats in front of their respective camps, free

rather from danger for the moment than from anxiety: for sovereign

power was at stake, dependent on the valour and fortune of so few.

Accordingly, therefore, on the tip-toe of expectation, their attention

was eagerly fixed on a spectacle far from pleasing. The signal was

given: and the three youths on each side, as if in battle array,

rushed to the charge with arms presented, bearing in their breasts the

spirit of mighty armies. Neither the one nor the other heeded their

personal danger, but the public dominion or slavery was present to

their mind, and the thought that the fortune of their country would be

such hereafter as they themselves should have made it. Directly their

arms clashed at the first encounter, and their glittering swords

flashed, a mighty horror thrilled the spectators; and, as hope

inclined to neither side, voice and breath alike were numbed. Then

having engaged hand to hand, when now not only the movements of their

bodies, and the indecisive brandishings of their arms and weapons, but

wounds also and blood were seen, two of the Romans fell lifeless, one

upon the other, the three Albans being wounded. And when the Alban

army had raised a shout of joy at their fall, hope had entirely by

this time, not however anxiety, deserted the Roman legions, breathless

with apprehension at the dangerous position of this one man, whom the

three Curiatii had surrounded. He happened to be unhurt, so that,

though alone he was by no means a match for them all together, yet

he was full of confidence against each singly. In order therefore to

separate their attack, he took to flight, presuming that they would

each pursue him with such swiftness as the wounded state of his body

would permit. He had now fled a considerable distance from the place

where the fight had taken place, when, looking back, he perceived that

they were pursuing him at a great distance from each other, and that

one of them was not far from him. On him he turned round with great

fury, and while the Alban army shouted out to the Curiatii to succour

their brother, Horatius by this time victorious, having slain his

antagonist, was now proceeding to a second attack. Then the Romans

encouraged their champion with a shout such as is wont to be raised

when men cheer in consequence of unexpected success; and he hastened

to finish the combat. Wherefore before the other, who was not far off,

could come up to him, he slew the second Curiatius also. And now, the

combat being brought to equal terms, one on each side remained, but

unequally matched in hope and strength. The one was inspired with

courage for a third contest by the fact that his body was uninjured by

a weapon, and by his double victory: the other dragging along his body

exhausted from his wound, exhausted from running, and dispirited by

the slaughter of his brothers before his eyes, thus met his victorious

antagonist. And indeed there was no fight. The Roman, exulting, cried:

"Two I have offered to the shades of my brothers: the third I will

offer to the cause of this war, that the Roman may rule over the

Alban." He thrust his sword down from above into his throat, while he

with difficulty supported the weight of his arms, and stripped him

as he lay prostrate. The Romans welcomed Horatius with joy and

congratulations; with so much the greater exultation, as the matter

had closely bordered on alarm. They then turned their attention to the

burial of their friends, with feelings by no means the same: for the

one side was elated by the acquisition of empire, the other brought

under the rule of others: their sepulchres may still be seen in the

spot where each fell; the two Roman in one place nearer Alba, the

three Alban in the direction of Rome, but situated at some distance

from each other, as in fact they had fought.

Before they departed from thence, when Mettius, in accordance with the

treaty which had been concluded, asked Tullus what his orders were,

he ordered him to keep his young men under arms, for he intended to

employ them, if a war should break out with the Veientes. After this

both armies were led away to their homes. Horatius marched in front,

carrying before him the spoils of the three brothers: his maiden

sister, who had been betrothed to one of the Curiatii, met him before

the gate Capena;[23] and having recognised on her brother's shoulders

the military robe of her betrothed, which she herself had worked, she

tore her hair, and with bitter wailings called by name on her deceased

lover. The sister's lamentations in the midst of his own victory, and

of such great public rejoicings, raised the ire of the hot-tempered

youth. So, having drawn his sword, he ran the maiden through the body,

at the same time reproaching her with these words: "Go hence with thy

ill-timed love to thy spouse, forgetful of thy brothers that are dead,

and of the one who survives--forgetful of thy country. So fare every

Roman woman who shall mourn an enemy." This deed seemed cruel to the

fathers and to the people; but his recent services outweighed its

enormity. Nevertheless he was dragged before the king for judgment.

The king, however, that he might not himself be responsible for a

decision so melancholy, and so disagreeable in the view of the people,

or for the punishment consequent on such decision, having summoned

an assembly of the people, declared, "I appoint, according to law,

duumvirs to pass sentence on Horatius for treason." The law was of

dreadful formula. "Let the duumvirs pass sentence for treason. If he

appeal from the duumvirs, let him contend by appeal; if they shall

gain the cause, let the lictor cover his head, hang him by a rope

on the accursed tree, scourge him either within the pomerium,[24]or

without the pomerium." The duumvirs appointed in accordance with this

decision, who did not consider that, according to that law, they could

acquit the man even if innocent, having condemned him, then one of

them said: "Publius Horatius, I judge thee guilty of treason. Lictor,

bind his hands." The lictor had approached him, and was commencing to

fix the rope round his neck. Then Horatius, on the advice of Tullus,

a merciful interpreter of the law, said, "I appeal." Accordingly the

matter was contested before the people as to the appeal. At that trial

the spectators were much affected, especially on Publius Horatius

the father declaring that he considered his daughter to have been

deservedly slain; were it not so, that he would by virtue of his

authority as a father have inflicted punishment on his son. He then

entreated them that they would not render him childless, one whom but

a little while ago they had beheld blessed with a fine progeny. During

these words the old man, having embraced the youth, pointing to the

spoils of the Curiatii hung up in that place which is now called Pila

Horatia,[25] "Quirites," said he, "can you bear to see bound beneath

the gallows, amid scourgings and tortures, the man whom you just now

beheld marching decorated with spoils and exulting in victory--a sight

so shocking that even the eyes of the Albans could scarcely endure it?

Go then, lictor, bind those hands, which but a little while since,

armed, won sovereignty for the Roman people. Go, cover the head of the

liberator of this city: hang him on the accursed tree: scourge him,

either within the pomerium, so it be only amid those javelins and

spoils of the enemy, or without the pomerium, so it be only amid the

graves of the Curiatii. For whither can you lead this youth, where his

own noble deeds will not redeem him from such disgraceful punishment?"

The people could not withstand either the tears of the father, or the

spirit of the son, the same in every danger, and acquitted him more

from admiration of his bravery, than on account of the justice of his

cause. But that so clear a murder might be at least atoned for by some

expiation, the father was commanded to expiate the son's guilt at the

public charge. He, having offered certain expiatory sacrifices, which

were ever after continued in the Horatian family, and laid a beam

across the street, made the youth pass under it, as under the yoke,

with his head covered. This beam remains even to this day, being

constantly repaired at the public expense; it is called Sororium

Tigillum (Sister's Beam). A tomb of square stone was erected to

Horatia in the spot where she was stabbed and fell.

However, the peace with Alba did not long continue. The

dissatisfaction of the populace at the fortune of the state having

been intrusted to three soldiers, perverted the wavering mind of the

dictator; and since straightforward measures had not turned out well,

he began to conciliate the affections of the populace by treacherous

means. Accordingly, as one who had formerly sought peace in time of

war, and was now seeking war in time of peace, because he perceived

that his own state possessed more courage than strength, he stirred

up other nations to make war openly and by proclamation: for his own

people he reserved the work of treachery under the show of allegiance.

The Fidenates, a Roman colony,[26] having taken the Veientes into

partnership in the plot, were instigated to declare war and take up

arms under a compact of desertion on the part of the Albans. When

Fidenae had openly revolted, Tullus, after summoning Mettius and his

army from Alba, marched against the enemy. When he crossed the Anio,

he pitched his camp at the conflux of the rivers.[27] Between that

place and Fidenae, the army of the Veientes had crossed the Tiber.

These, in the line of battle, also occupied the right wing near the

river; the Fidenates were posted on the left nearer the mountains.

Tullus stationed his own men opposite the Veientine foe; the Albans

he posted to face the legion of the Fidenates. The Alban had no more

courage than loyalty. Therefore neither daring to keep his ground, nor

to desert openly, he filed off slowly to the mountains. After this,

when he supposed he had advanced far enough, he led his entire army

uphill, and still wavering in mind, in order to waste time, opened

his ranks. His design was, to direct his forces to that side on which

fortune should give success. At first the Romans who stood nearest

were astonished, when they perceived their flanks were exposed by the

departure of their allies; then a horseman at full gallop announced

to the king that the Albans were moving off. Tullus, in this perilous

juncture, vowed twelve Salii and temples to Paleness and Panic.

Rebuking the horseman in a loud voice, so that the enemy might hear

him plainly, he ordered him to return to the ranks, that there was no

occasion for alarm; that it was by his order that the Alban army was

being led round to fall on the unprotected rear of the Fidenates. He

likewise commanded him to order the cavalry to raise their spears

aloft; the execution of this order shut out the view of the retreating

Alban army from a great part of the Roman infantry. Those who saw it,

believing that it was even so, as they had heard from the king, fought

with all the greater valour. The alarm was transferred to the enemy;

they had both heard what had been uttered so loudly, and a great part

of the Fidenates, as men who had mixed as colonists with the Romans,

understood Latin. Therefore, that they might not be cut off from the

town by a sudden descent of the Albans from the hills, they took to

flight. Tullus pressed forward, and having routed the wing of the

Fidenates, returned with greater fury against the Veientes, who were

disheartened by the panic of the others: they did not even sustain

his charge; but the river, opposed to them in the rear, prevented a

disordered flight. When their flight led thither, some, shamefully

throwing down their arms, rushed blindly into the river; others, while

lingering on the banks, undecided whether to fight or flee, were

overpowered. Never before was a more desperate battle fought by the

Romans.

Then the Alban army, which had been a mere spectator of the fight,

was marched down into the plains. Mettius congratulated Tullus on his

victory over the enemy; Tullus on his part addressed Mettius with

courtesy. He ordered the Albans to unite their camp with that of the

Romans, which he prayed heaven might prove beneficial to both; and

prepared a purificatory sacrifice for the next day. As soon as it

was daylight, all things being in readiness, according to custom, he

commanded both armies to be summoned to an assembly. The heralds,

beginning at the farthest part of the camp, summoned the Albans first.

They, struck also with the novelty of the thing, in order to hear the

Roman king deliver a speech, crowded next to him. The Roman forces,

under arms, according to previous arrangement, surrounded them; the

centurions had been charged to execute their orders without delay.

Then Tullus began as follows: "Romans, if ever before, at any other

time, in any war, there was a reason that you should return thanks,

first to the immortal gods, next to your own valour, it was

yesterday's battle. For the struggle was not so much with enemies as

with the treachery and perfidy of allies, a struggle which is more

serious and more dangerous. For--that you may not be under a mistaken

opinion--know that it was without my orders that the Albans retired to

the mountains, nor was that my command, but a stratagem and the mere

pretence of a command: that you, being kept in ignorance that you were

deserted, your attention might not be drawn away from the fight, and

that the enemy might be inspired with terror and dismay, conceiving

themselves to be surrounded on the rear. Nor is that guilt, which I

now complain of, shared by all the Albans. They merely followed their

leader, as you too would have done, had I wished to turn my army away

to any other point from thence. It is Mettius there who is the leader

of this march: it is Mettius also who the contriver of this war is: it

is Mettius who is the violator of the treaty between Rome and Alba.

Let another hereafter venture to do the like, if I do not presently

make of him a signal example to mankind." The centurions in arms stood

around Mettius: the king proceeded with the rest of his speech as he

had commenced: "It is my intention, and may it prove fortunate, happy,

and auspicious to the Roman people, to myself, and to you, O Albans,

to transplant all the inhabitants of Alba to Rome, to grant your

commons the rights of citizenship, to admit your nobles into the body

of senators, to make one city, one state: as the Alban state after

being one people was formerly divided into two, so let it now again

become one." On hearing this the Alban youth, unarmed, surrounded by

armed men, although divided in their sentiments, yet under pressure of

the general apprehension maintained silence. Then Tullus proceeded:

"If, Mettius Fufetius, you were capable of learning fidelity, and how

to observe treaties, I would have suffered you to live and have given

you such a lesson. But as it is, since your disposition is incurable,

do you at any rate by your punishment teach mankind to consider those

obligations sacred, which have been violated by you? As therefore a

little while since you kept your mind divided between the interests of

Fidenae and of Rome, so shall you now surrender your body to be torn

asunder in different directions." Upon this, two chariots drawn by

four horses being brought up, he bound Mettius stretched at full

length to their carriages: then the horses were driven in different

directions, carrying off his mangled body on each carriage, where the

limbs had remained hanging to the cords. All turned away their eyes

from so shocking a spectacle. That was the first and last instance

among the Romans of a punishment which established a precedent that

showed but little regard for the laws of humanity. In other cases

we may boast that no other nation has approved of milder forms of

punishment.[28]

Meanwhile the cavalry had already been sent on to Alba, to transplant

the people to Rome. The legions were next led thither to demolish the

city. When they entered the gates, there was not indeed such a tumult

or panic as usually prevails in captured cities, when, after the gates

have been burst open, or the walls levelled by the battering-ram, or

the citadel taken by assault, the shouts of the enemy and rush of

armed men through the city throws everything into confusion with fire

and sword: but gloomy silence and speechless sorrow so stupefied the

minds of all, that, through fear, paying no heed as to what they

should leave behind, what they should take with them, in their

perplexity, making frequent inquiries one of another, they now stood

on the thresholds, now wandering about, roamed through their houses,

which they were destined to see then for the last time. When now the

shouts of the horsemen commanding them to depart became urgent, and

the crash of the dwellings which were being demolished was heard in

the remotest parts of the city, and the dust, rising from distant

places, had filled every quarter as with a cloud spread over them;

then, hastily carrying out whatever each of them could, while they

went forth, leaving behind them their guardian deity and household

gods,[29] and the homes in which each had been born and brought up, an

unbroken line of emigrants soon filled the streets, and the sight of

others caused their tears to break out afresh in pity for one another:

piteous cries too were heard, of the women more especially, as they

passed by their revered temples now beset with armed men, and left

their gods as it were in captivity. After the Albans had evacuated the

town, the Roman soldiery levelled all the public and private buildings

indiscriminately to the ground, and a single hour consigned to

destruction and ruin the work of four hundred years, during which

Alba had stood. The temples of the gods, however--for so it had been

ordered by the king--were spared.

In the meantime Rome increased by the destruction of Alba. The number

of citizens was doubled. The Coelian Mount was added to the city, and,

in order that it might be more thickly populated, Tullus selected it

as a site for his palace, and subsequently took up his abode there.

The leading men of the Albans he enrolled among the patricians, that

that division of the state also might increase, the Tullii, Servilii,

Quinctii, Geganii, Curiatii, Cloelii; and as a consecrated place

of meeting for the order thus augmented by himself he built a

senate-house, which was called Hostilia[30] even down to the time of

our fathers. Further, that all ranks might acquire some additional

strength from the new people, he chose ten troops of horsemen from

among the Albans: he likewise recruited the old legions, and raised

new ones, by additions from the same source. Trusting to this increase

of strength, Tullus declared war against the Sabines, a nation at that

time the most powerful, next to the Etruscans, in men and arms. On

both sides wrongs had been committed, and satisfaction demanded in

vain. Tullus complained that some Roman merchants had been seized in a

crowded market near the temple of Feronia:[31] the Sabines that some

of their people had previously taken refuge in the asylum, and had

been detained at Rome. These were put forward as the causes of the

war. The Sabines, well aware both that a portion of their strength had

been settled at Rome by Tatius, and that the Roman power had also been

lately increased by the accession of the Alban people, began, in like

manner, to look around for foreign aid themselves. Etruria was in

their neighbourhood; of the Etruscans the Veientes were the nearest.

From thence they attracted some volunteers, whose minds were stirred

up to break the truce, chiefly in consequence of the rankling

animosities from former wars. Pay also had its weight with some

stragglers belonging to the indigent population. They were assisted

by no aid from the government, and the loyal observation of the truce

concluded with Romulus was strictly kept by the Veientes: with respect

to the others it is less surprising. While both sides were preparing

for war with the utmost vigour, and the matter seemed to turn on this,

which side should first commence hostilities, Tullus advanced first

into the Sabine territory. A desperate battle took place at the wood

called Malitiosa, in which the Roman army gained a decisive advantage,

both by reason of the superior strength of their infantry, and also,

more especially, by the aid of their cavalry, which had been recently

increased. The Sabine ranks were thrown into disorder by a sudden

charge of the cavalry, nor could they afterward stand firm in battle

array, or retreat in loose order without great slaughter.

After the defeat of the Sabines, when the government of Tullus and the

whole Roman state enjoyed great renown, and was highly flourishing, it

was announced to the king and senators, that it had rained stones on

the Alban Mount. As this could scarcely be credited, on persons being

sent to investigate the prodigy, a shower of stones fell from heaven

before their eyes, just as when balls of hail are pelted down to the

earth by the winds. They also seemed to hear a loud voice from the

grove on the summit of the hill, bidding the Albans perform their

religious services according to the rites of their native country,

which they had consigned to oblivion, as if their gods had been

abandoned at the same time as their country; and had either adopted

the religious rites of Rome, or, as often happens, enraged at their

evil destiny, had altogether renounced the worship of the gods. A

festival of nine days was instituted publicly by the Romans also on

account of the same prodigy, either in obedience to the heavenly voice

sent from the Alban Mount--for that, too, is reported--or by the

advice of the soothsayers. Anyhow, it continued a solemn observance,

that, whenever a similar prodigy was announced, a festival for nine

days was observed. Not long after, they were afflicted with

an epidemic; and though in consequence of this there arose an

unwillingness to serve, yet no respite from arms was given them by the

warlike king, who considered besides that the bodies of the young

men were more healthy when on service abroad than at home, until he

himself also was attacked by a lingering disease. Then that proud

spirit and body became so broken, that he, who had formerly considered

nothing less worthy of a king than to devote his mind to religious

observances, began to pass his time a slave to every form of

superstition, important and trifling, and filled the people's minds

also with religious scruples. The majority of his subjects, now

desiring the restoration of that state of things which had existed

under King Numa, thought that the only chance of relief for their

diseased bodies lay in grace and compassion being obtained from the

gods. It is said that the king himself, turning over the commentaries

of Numa, after he had found therein that certain sacrifices of a

secret and solemn nature had been performed to Jupiter Elicius, shut

himself up and set about the performance of those solemnities, but

that that rite was not duly undertaken or carried out, and that not

only was no heavenly manifestation vouchsafed to him, but he and his

house were struck by lightning and burned to ashes, through theanger

of Jupiter, who was exasperated at the ceremony having been improperly

performed.[32] Tullus reigned two-and-thirty years with great military

renown.