[_No date assignable._]
It happened that, in each of the armies, there were three twin brothers,
between whom there was no disparity, in point of age, or of strength.
That their names were Horatius and Curiatius, we have sufficient
certainty, for no occurrence of antiquity has ever been more universally
noticed; yet, notwithstanding that the fact is so well ascertained, there
still remains a doubt respecting the names, to which nation the Horatii
belonged, and to which the Curiatii; authors are divided on the point;
finding, however, that the greater number concur in calling the Horatii
Romans, I am inclined to follow them. To these three brothers, on each
side, the kings proposed that they should support, by their arms, the
honor of their respective countries, informing them that the sovereignty
was to be enjoyed by that nation whose champions should prove victorious
in the combat. No reluctance was shown on their parts, and time and
place were appointed. Previous to the fight a league was made between
the Romans and Albans, on these conditions: That, whichever of the two
nations should, by its champions, obtain victory in the combat, that
nation should, without further dispute, possess sovereign dominion over
the other.
* * * * *
The league being concluded, the three brothers, on each side, pursuant
to the agreement, took arms, the friends of each putting them in mind
that “the gods of their country, the country itself, the whole of their
countrymen, whether at home or in the army, rested on their prowess
the decision of their fate.” Naturally bold and courageous, and highly
animated, beside, by such exhortations, they advanced into the midst,
between the two armies. The two armies sat down before their respective
camps, free from all apprehensions of immediate danger to themselves, but
not from deep anxiety, no less than sovereign power being at stake, and
depending on the bravery and success of so small a number. With all the
eagerness, therefore, of anxious suspense, they fixed their attention
on an exhibition which was far, indeed, from being a matter of mere
amusement. The signal being given, the three youths, who had been drawn
upon each side, as in battle array, their breasts animated with the
magnanimous spirits of whole armies, rushed forward to the fight, intent
on mutual slaughter, utterly thoughtless of their own personal peril,
and reflecting that, on the event of the contest, depended the future
fate and fortune of their respective countries. On the first onset, as
soon as the clash of their arms and the glittering of their swords were
perceived, the spectators shuddered with excess of horror, and their
hopes being, as yet, equally balanced, their voices were suppressed,
and even their breath was suspended. Afterward, in the progress of the
combat, during which not only the activity of the young men’s limbs, and
the rapid motions of their arms, offensive and defensive, but wounds
also, and blood, were exhibited to view, the three Albans were wounded,
and two of the Romans fell lifeless, one over the other. On their fall
the Alban army set up a shout of joy, while the Roman legions were in a
state of the most painful anxiety, almost bereft of hope, and reduced
to a state of despair by the situation of their champion, who was now
surrounded by the three Curiatii. It happened that he was unhurt, so
that, though singly he was by no means a match for them altogether,
yet was he confident of success against each of them, separately. In
order, therefore, to avoid their joint attack, he betook himself to
flight, judging that they would pursue with such different degrees of
speed as their wounds would allow. He had now fled to some distance
from the place where they had fought, when, looking back, he perceived
that there were large intervals between the pursuers, and that one was
at no great distance from him; against him he turned back, with great
fury, and while the Alban army called out to the Curiatii to succor
their brother, Horatius having in the meantime slain his antagonist,
proceeded, victorious, to attack the second. The Romans then cheered
their champion with shouts of applause, such as naturally burst forth
on occasions of unexpected joy; on his part, he delayed not to put an
end to the combat; for, before the third, who was at no great distance,
could come up to the relief of his brother, he dispatched the second
Curiatius. And now they were brought to an equality, in point of number,
only one on each side surviving, but were far from an equality either in
hopes or in strength; the one, unhurt, and flushed with two victories,
advanced with confidence to the third contest; the other, enfeebled by a
wound, fatigued with running, and dispirited, beside, by the fate of his
brethren already slain, met the victorious enemy. What followed could
not be called a fight; the Roman, exulting, cried out: “Two of you have
I offered to the shades of my brothers, the third I will offer to the
cause in which we are engaged, that the Roman may rule over the Alban;”
and, whilst the other could scarcely support the weight of his armor, he
plunged his sword downward into his throat; then as he lay prostrate, he
despoiled him of his arms. The Romans received Horatius with triumphant
congratulations, and a degree of joy proportioned to the greatness of
the danger that had threatened their cause. Both parties then applied
themselves to the burying of their dead, with very different dispositions
of mind; the one being elated with the acquisition of empire, the other
depressed under a foreign jurisdiction. The sepulchers still remain, in
the several spots where the combatants fell: those of the two Romans in
one place, nearer to Alba, those of the three Albans on the side next to
Rome; but in different places, as they fought.
* * * * *
Do our readers wonder that Byron speaks of Livy’s “pictured
page?” We advance immediately to the beginning of authentic
Roman history—the date of the war between Pyrrhus and Rome. Our
historian shall be the German, Wilhelm Ihne (pronounced Eé-nuh),
who, however, writes himself directly in English. He is still
later than Mommsen, and far more judicial than he.