A colony of Gauls, confined for room in their own country, entered
upper Italy, under the command of Brennus, three hundred and
eighty-seven years before Christ, and laid siege to Clusium, in
Tuscany. Accustomed already to command as a master in Italy, Rome
sent three ambassadors to Brennus, to inform him that that city was
under the protection of the Roman republic. Offended by the rude reply
of the Gauls, the ambassadors retired indignantly, but violated the
rights of nations by entering Clusium, and assisting in the defence
of it. Brennus, highly irritated, demanded satisfaction, and Rome
refused to give it. He marched directly against that already superb
city. The two armies met on the banks of the river Allia, within half a
league of Rome. The Romans, being the less in numbers, extended their
ranks, in order not to be surrounded, and by that means weakened their
centre. The Gauls, perceiving this, fell with fury on the cohorts of
the centre, broke through them, and attacked the wings, whose flanks
this opening left exposed. Already conquered by the terror inspired
by this bold manœuvre, which bespoke a people accustomed to military
tactics, the wings of the Roman army took to flight without drawing
sword, and the main body, bewildered by the general rout which ensued,
took refuge in Veii, instead of regaining Rome, which offered them
the nearest asylum. Thousands of Romans fell under the sword of the
Gauls; and if these people had marched straight to the city, instead
of lingering to share the spoil, the Roman name would have been at an
end. They remained three days engaged in distributing the spoil, and
these three days saved Rome, whither the fugitives bore the news of
the disaster the army and the consuls had sustained. They rendered the
republic aware of what it had to expect from the victorious Gauls.
The Senate, in the general alarm, took advantage of the time the
barbarians employed in rejoicings for their victory. Not finding a
sufficient force to defend the city, they threw all the men capable of
bearing arms into the Capitol, and sent away all useless mouths; the
old men, women, and children took refuge in the nearest cities. There
only remained in Rome a few pontiffs and ancient senators, who, not
being willing to survive either their country or its glory, generously
devoted themselves to death, to appease, according to their belief,
the anger of the infernal gods. These venerable men, in order to
preserve to the last sigh the marks of a dignity which they believed
would expire with them, put on their sacred vestments or their consular
robes, placed themselves at the doors of their houses, in their ivory
chairs, and awaited with firmness the decree which Destiny was about
to pronounce on Rome. Brennus arrived three days after his victory.
Surprised at finding the gates open, the walls without defence, and
the houses without inhabitants, he suspected some ambush or stratagem.
The continued silence and calm at length reassured him. He placed his
points of guard; then, whilst spreading his troops through the quarters
of the city, the first objects that met his eyes were the venerable
old men who had devoted themselves to death. Their splendid habits,
their white beards, their air of grandeur and firmness, their silence
even, astonished Brennus, and inspired a religious fear in his army.
A Gaul, less touched with this august spectacle and more daring than
the rest, ventured to pluck insolently the beard of an ancient senator.
The spirited old man dealt him a heavy blow with his ivory staff on
the head. The irritated soldier killed the senator, and this became
the signal for slaughter; all were massacred in their chairs, and the
inhabitants who had not escaped were put to the sword. Brennus attacked
the Capitol, but he was repulsed with loss. Despairing of taking it by
force, he had recourse to blockade, to reduce it by famine. In order to
avenge himself for the resistance offered by the Romans, he set fire to
the city; and soon Rome presented nothing but its hills surrounded with
smoking ruins.
The Gauls, inflated with their success, believed the whole country
to be in a state of terror, and they preserved neither order nor
discipline; some wandered about the neighbourhood for the purpose
of plunder, whilst others spent both days and nights in drinking.
They thought the whole people shut up in the Capitol, but Rome found
an avenger in Camillus. This great man, exiled by his ungrateful
fellow-citizens, had retired to Ardea. He prevailed upon the young
men of that city to follow him. In concert with the magistrates, he
marched out on a dark night, fell upon the Gauls stupified with wine,
made a horrible slaughter, and thus raised the depressed courage of his
fellow-citizens. They flocked in crowds to his standard, and, looking
upon Camillus as their only resource, they chose him as their leader.
But he refused to do anything without the order of the Senate and
the people shut up in the Capitol. It was almost impossible to gain
access to them. A young Roman, however, had the hardihood to undertake
this perilous enterprise, and succeeded. Camillus, declared dictator,
collected an army of more than forty thousand men, who believed
themselves invincible under so able a general.
The Gauls, meanwhile, perceived the traces left by the young man, and
Brennus endeavoured, during the night, to surprise the Capitol by the
same path. After many efforts, a few succeeded in gaining the summit
of the rock, and were already on the point of scaling the walls; the
sentinel was asleep, and nothing seemed to oppose them. Some geese,
consecrated to Juno, were awakened by the noise made by the enemy,
and began to cry as they do when disturbed. Manlius, a person of
consular rank, flew to the spot, encountered the Gauls, and hurled
two of them from the rock. The Romans were roused, and the enemy
were driven back; most of them either fell or were thrown from the
precipice, and very few of the party engaged regained their camp. The
sleepy sentinel was precipitated from the Capitol, and Manlius was
highly rewarded. Much irritated at his defeat, Brennus pressed the
place still more closely, to augment the famine, which had begun to be
felt even in his camp, since Camillus had made himself master of the
open country. An accommodation was soon proposed; it was agreed that
Brennus should receive a thousand pounds weight of gold, on condition
of his raising the siege and leaving the lands of the republic. The
gold was brought, but when it was to be weighed, the Gauls made use of
false weights. The Romans complained of this; but Brennus, laughing at
their remonstrances, threw his sword and baldric into the scale, which
counterpoised the gold, adding raillery to injustice. “Woe be to the
conquered!” said he, in a barbarous tone. At that very moment Camillus
reached the capital, and advanced with a strong escort towards the
place of conference. Upon learning what had passed, “Take back this
gold to the Capitol,” said he to the Roman deputies; “and you, Gauls,”
added he, “retire with your weights and scales; it is with steel only
that Romans should redeem their country.” The parties soon proceeded to
blows; Camillus brought up his troops, and a furious charge ensued. The
Romans, maddened by the sight of their ruined country, made incredible
efforts. The Gauls could not withstand them; they were broken, and fled
on all sides. Brennus rallied them, raised the siege, and encamped
a few miles from Rome. Camillus followed him with characteristic
ardour, attacked him afresh, and defeated him. Most of the Gauls were
either killed on the field of battle, or massacred in detail by the
inhabitants of the neighbouring villages; so that, it is said, a single
one did not remain to carry back to his country the news of their
defeat. Thus Rome was saved by the valour and ability of an illustrious
exile, who, forgetting the injustice and ingratitude of his country,
richly merited the title of _its second founder_.