them, carrying the spoils of the three whom he had slain. But at the
Capene gate there met him his sister, who was betrothed to one of the
champions of Alba; and when the maiden saw upon his shoulders the cloak
of her betrothed (and indeed she had wrought it with her own hands)
she tore her hair and cried to the dead man by name with a lamentable
voice. But Horatius was wroth to hear the words of mourning on the day
when he had won so great a victory and the people rejoiced; and he drew
his sword and slew the maiden, crying, “Depart hence to thy lover with
the love that thou cherishest out of season; thou that forgettest thy
brethren that are dead, and thy brother that is yet alive, and thine own
people also. So perish whosoever shall make lamentations for an enemy
of Rome.” And when the fathers and the commons saw what was done, they
thought it a wicked deed, but remembered what great service the man had
newly rendered to Rome. Nevertheless they laid hands on him and took him
to the king that he should judge him. But the king being loath to judge
such a matter, or to give sentence against the man, said, “I appoint two
men as the law commands, who shall judge Horatius for murder.” Now the
law was this: “If a man do murder, two men shall judge him; if he appeal
against the two, let the appeal be tried; if their sentence be confirmed,
ye shall cover his head and scourge him within the walls or without
the walls, and hang him by a rope upon the gallows.” Then there were
appointed two men according to the law, who affirmed that they could not
let the man go free, whether his guilt was small or great, seeing that
he had manifestly done the deed. Therefore said one of them, “Publius
Horatius, we adjudge thee to be guilty of murder. Go, lictor, bind his
hands.” But when the lictor came and was now ready to cast the rope about
him, Horatius cried, “I appeal to the people;” for the king himself,
being mercifully disposed to him, bade him do so. Then was there a trial
before the people, in which that which most wrought upon the hearts of
men was that the father of Horatius constantly affirmed that his daughter
had been rightly slain. “Nay,” said he, “verily, if the young man had not
slain her, I had used against him my right as a father, and had condemned
him to die.” Then again he besought them that they should not leave him
desolate and bereaved of his children, he who but the day before had
had so fair a stock. Afterward, throwing his arms about the young man,
he stretched out his hands to the spoils of the Curiatii, crying, “Will
ye endure, men of Rome, to see him bound under the gallows and beaten
with stripes whom ye beheld but yesterday adorned with these spoils and
rejoicing in his victory? Not so. Surely the men of Alba themselves had
not borne to see such a sight. Go, lictor, bind his hands, though but
yesterday they won so great a dominion for the people of Rome. Go, cover
the head of him that made this people free; hang him upon the accursed
tree; scourge him, whether within the walls, so that thou do it among the
spoils of them that he slew, or without the walls, so that it be near
to the sepulchers of the champions of Alba. Whither can ye take this
youth that the memorials of his valor shall not save him from so foul
a punishment?” And when the people saw the tears of the old man, and
bethought them also what great courage the youth had shown in danger,
they could not endure to condemn him; but regarding his valor rather than
the goodness of his cause, let him go free. Only, because the deed had
been so manifest, a command was laid upon the father that he should make
a trespass offering for his son at the public charge. Then the father,
having made certain sacrifices of expiation—which are performed to this
day in the house of Horatius—set up a beam across the way and covered his
son’s head, and led him beneath it. As for the maiden, they built her
tomb of hewn stone in the place where she was slain.
Now the men of Alba were wroth to think that the fortunes of the whole
people had been thus trusted to the hands of three soldiers; and Mettus,
being of an unstable mind, was led away to evil in his desire to do
them a pleasure. And as before he had sought for peace when others were
desirous of war, so now he desired war when others were minded to be at
peace. But because he knew that the men of Alba were not able of their
own strength to do that which they desired, he stirred up certain others
of the nations round about, that they should make war openly against
Rome. As for himself and his people, he purposed that they should seem
indeed to be friends and allies, but should be ready for treachery when
occasion served. Thereupon the men of Fidenæ, being colonists from Rome,
and the men of Veii promised that they would make war, and Mettus on
his part promised that he would come over to them with his army in the
battle. First the men of Fidenæ rebelled, and King Tullus marched against
them, bidding Mettus come also with his army, and having crossed the
river Anio, pitched his camp where Anio flows into the Tiber. And by
this time the men of Veii also had come up with their army, and these
were on the right wing next to the river, and the men of Fidenæ on the
left, next to the mountains. The ordering of King Tullus was that he and
his men should do battle with the men of Veii, and Mettus and the Albans
with the men of Fidenæ. Now Mettus, as he was not minded to do right, so
had no courage to do wrong boldly; and because he dared not to go over
to the enemy, led his men away slowly toward the mountains. Being come
thither, he set out his men in battle array, being minded to join them
whom he should perceive to prevail. At first the Romans marvelled that
Mettus and his men should so depart from them; and after a while they
sent a messenger to the king, saying, “The men of Alba have left us.”
Then the king knew in his heart that there was treachery, and he vowed
that he would build temples to Paleness and Panic, if he should win the
victory that day. Nevertheless he showed no sign of fear, but cried to
the horsemen with a loud voice, that the enemy might hear, saying, “Go
thou back to the battle, and bid thy comrades be of good courage. Mettus
does my bidding that he may take the men of Fidenæ in the rear.” Also
he bade the cavalry raise their spears in the air, that so the Romans
might, for the most part, be hindered from seeing that the men of Alba
had deserted them; and they that saw, believing what the king had said,
fought with the more courage. Then there fell a great fear upon the
enemy, for these also had heard the saying, which, being in the Latin
tongue, was understood of the men of Fidenæ. They, therefore, fearing
lest Mettus and the army of Alba should come down from the mountains and
shut them off from their town, began to give ground. And when the king
had broken their array, he turned the more fiercely on the men of Veii.
These also fled before him, but were hindered from escape by the river.
And some, throwing away their arms, ran blindly into the water, and some
while they lingered on the bank, and knew not whether they should fight
or fly, so perished. Never before had the Romans so fierce a fight with
their enemies. After this the king spoke in this fashion, “Men of Rome,
if ever before ye had occasion to give thanks for victory won, first to
the immortal gods, and secondly to your own valor, such occasion ye found
in the battle of yesterday. For ye fought not only with the enemy, but
with that from which there is peril greater by far, even treachery in
allies. I would not have you ignorant of the truth. It was not by any
ordering of mine that the men of Alba went toward the mountains. I gave
no such command; yet did I feign that I had given it to this end, that ye
might not know that we were deserted, and so might fight with the better
courage, and that our enemies, thinking that they should be assailed from
behind, might be stricken with fear and so fly before us. Yet I say not
that all the men of Alba are guilty of this matter. They followed their
captain, even as ye, men of Rome, would have followed me whithersoever I
might have led you. Mettus only is guilty. He contrived this departure,
even as he brought about this war, and brake the covenant that was
between Alba and Rome. And what he hath done others may dare hereafter,
if I do not so deal with him that he shall be an ensample for all that
come after.” Then the captains of hundreds, having arms in their hands,
laid hold upon Mettus. After this the king spake again: “May the gods
bless to the people of Rome, and to me, and to you also, men of Alba,
that which I purpose to do. For my purpose is to carry away the people of
Alba to Rome; the commons of Alba will I make citizens of Rome, and the
nobles will I number among our senators. So shall there be one city and
one commonwealth.” When the men of Alba heard these words, all had not
the same mind about the matter, but all kept silence, fearing to speak,
because being without arms they were compassed on every side with armed
men.
Then said the king, “Mettus, if indeed thou couldst learn faith and the
keeping of treaties, I had suffered thee to live that thou mightest have
such teaching from me. But now, seeing that thy disease is past healing,
thou shalt teach other men to hold in reverence the holy things which
thou hast despised. For even as thou wast divided in heart between Rome
and Fidenæ, so shall thy body be divided.” Then, at the king’s bidding,
they brought two chariots, with four horses harnessed to each of them;
and binding the body of Mettus to the chariots, they drave the horses
divers ways so that the man was torn asunder.
But because Alba was thus brought to destruction, Rome increased greatly;
for the number of the citizens was increased twofold. The Cœlian hill
was added to the city, in which hill, that others might the more readily
dwell there, the king himself commanded that they should build him
a palace. Also the chief houses of Alba, as the house of Julius and
of Servilius, were chosen into the Senate; and that there might be a
place of meeting for the Senate being thus multiplied, the king built a
temple and called it Hostilia, after his own name. Also ten squadrons of
horsemen were chosen out of the men of Alba.
Now the end of King Tullus was this. There came a pestilence upon
the land. And when for this cause the people were wearied of war,
nevertheless the king, both because he delighted in war, and because
he believed that the young men should have better health if they went
abroad than if they tarried at home, gave them no rest. But after a while
he also fell into a tedious sickness, which so brake him both in body
and mind that, whereas in time past he thought it unworthy of a king to
busy himself with matters of religion, now he gave himself up wholly
to superstition, and filled the minds of his people also with the like
thoughts, so that they regarded nothing but this, how they should make
atonement to the gods, and so be rid of their present distress. As for
the king himself, men say that reading the sacred book of King Numa he
found therein certain sacrifices, very secret and solemn, that should be
done to Jupiter by such as would bring him down from heaven, and that he
shut himself up to do these sacrifices; but because he set not about them
rightly or did than not in due form, there appeared to him no similitude
of the immortal gods (for such he had hoped to see); but Jupiter, having
great wrath at such unlawful dealings, struck him with lightning and
consumed both him and his house.