Here, then, we see what honour was paid _Discourses on the First Decade of Titus Livius

four acres of land sufficed to support so good and great a man as

Cincinnatus. We find the same Poverty still prevailing in the time of

Marcus Regulus, who when serving with the army in Africa sought leave

of senate to return home that he might look after his farm which his

labourers had suffered to run to waste. Here again we learn two things

worthy our attention: first, the poverty of these men and their

contentment under it, and how their sole study was to gain renown from

war, leaving all its advantages to the State. For had they thought of

enriching themselves by war, it had given them little concern that

their fields were running to waste Further, we have to remark the

magnanimity of these citizens, who when placed at the head of armies

surpassed all princes in the loftiness of their spirit, who cared

neither for king nor for commonwealth, and whom nothing could daunt or

dismay; but who, on returning to private life, became once more so

humble, so frugal, so careful of their slender means, and so submissive

to the magistrates and reverential to their superiors, that it might

seem impossible for the human mind to undergo so violent a change.

This poverty prevailed down to the days of Paulus Emilius, almost the

last happy days for this republic wherein a citizen, while enriching

Rome by his triumphs, himself remained poor. And yet so greatly was

poverty still esteemed at this time, that when Paulus, in conferring

rewards on those who had behaved well in the war, presented his own

son-in-law with a silver cup, it was the first vessel of silver ever

seen in his house.

I might run on to a great length pointing out how much better are the

fruits of poverty than those of riches, and how poverty has brought

cities, provinces, and nations to honour, while riches have wrought

their ruin, had not this subject been often treated by others.

CHAPTER XXVI.—_How Women are a cause of the ruin of States._

A feud broke out in Ardea touching the marriage of an heiress, whose

hand was sought at the same time by two suitors, the one of plebeian,

the other of noble birth. For her father being dead, her guardian

wished her to wed the plebeian, her mother the noble. And so hot grew

the dispute that resort was had to arms, the whole nobility siding with

their fellow-noble, and all the plebeians with the plebeian. The latter

faction being worsted, left the town, and sent to the Volscians for

help; whereupon, the nobles sought help from Rome. The Volscians were

first in the field, and on their arrival encamped round Ardea. The

Romans, coming up later, shut in the Volscians between themselves and

the town, and, reducing them by famine, forced them to surrender at

discretion. They then entered Ardea, and putting all the ringleaders in

this dispute to the sword, composed the disorders of the city.

In connection with this affair there are several points to be noted.

And in the first place we see how women have been the occasion of many

divisions and calamities in States, and have wrought great harm to

rulers; as when, according to our historian, the violence done to

Lucretia drove the Tarquins from their kingdom, and that done to

Virginia broke the power of the decemvirs. And among the chief causes

which Aristotle assigns for the downfall of tyrants are the wrongs done

by them to their subjects in respect of their women, whether by

adultery, rape, or other like injury to their honour, as has been

sufficiently noticed in the Chapter wherein we treated “_of

Conspiracies_”

I say, then, that neither absolute princes nor the rulers of free

States should underrate the importance of matter, but take heed to the

disorders which it may breed and provide against them while remedies

can still be used without discredit to themselves or to their

governments And this should have been done by the rulers of Ardea who

by suffering the rivalry between their citizens to come to a head,

promoted their divisions, and when they sought to reunite them had to

summon foreign help, than which nothing sooner leads to servitude.

But now let us turn to another subject which merits attention, namely,

the means whereby divided cities may be reunited; and of this I propose

to speak in the following Chapter.

CHAPTER XXVII.—_How a divided City may be reunited, and how it is a

false opinion that to hold Cities in subjection they must be kept

divided._

From the example of the Roman consuls who reconciled the citizens of

Ardea, we are taught the method whereby the feuds of a divided city may

be composed, namely, by putting the ringleaders of the disturbances to

death; and that no other remedy should be used. Three courses, indeed,

are open to you, since you may either put to death, as these consuls

did, or banish, or bind the citizens to live at peace with one another,

taking security for their good behaviour. Of which three ways the last

is the most hurtful, the most uncertain, and the least effectual;

because when much blood has been shed, or other like outrage done, it

cannot be that a peace imposed on compulsion should endure between men

who are every day brought face to face with one another; for since

fresh cause of contention may at any moment result from their meeting,

it will be impossible for them to refrain from mutual injury. Of this

we could have no better instance than in the city of Pistoja.

Fifteen years ago this city was divided between the Panciatichi and

Cancellieri, as indeed it still continues, the only difference being

that then they were in arms, whereas, now, they have laid them aside.

After much controversy and wrangling, these factions would presently

proceed to bloodshed, to pulling down houses, plundering property, and

all the other violent courses usual in divided cities. The Florentines,

with whom it lay to compose these feuds, strove for a long time to do

so by using the third of the methods mentioned; but when this only led

to increased tumult and disorder, losing patience, they decided to try

the second method and get rid of the ringleaders of both factions by

imprisoning some and banishing others. In this way a sort of settlement

was arrived at, which continues in operation up to the present hour.

There can be no question, however, that the first of the methods named

would have been the surest. But because extreme measures have in them

an element of greatness and nobility, a weak republic, so far from

knowing how to use this first method, can with difficulty be brought to

employ even the second. This, as I said at the beginning, is the kind

of blunder made by the princes of our times when they have to decide on

matters of moment, from their not considering how those men acted who

in ancient days had to determine under like conditions. For the

weakness of the present race of men (the result of their enfeebling

education and their ignorance of affairs), makes them regard the

methods followed by the ancients as partly inhuman and partly

impracticable. Accordingly, they have their own newfangled ways of

looking at things, wholly at variance with the true, as when the sages

of our city, some time since, pronounced that _Pistoja was to be held

by feuds and Pisa by fortresses_, not perceiving how useless each of

these methods is in itself.

Having spoken of fortresses already at some length, I shall not further

refer to them here, but shall consider the futility of trying to hold

subject cities by keeping them divided. In the first place, it is

impossible for the ruling power, whether prince or republic, to be

friends with both factions. For wherever there is division, it is human

nature to take a side, and to favour one party more than another. But

if one party in a subject city be unfriendly to you, the consequence

will be that you will lose that city so soon as you are involved in

war, since it is impossible for you to hold a city where you have

enemies both within and without. Should the ruling power be a republic,

there is nothing so likely to corrupt its citizens and sow dissension

among them, as having to control a divided city. For as each faction in

that city will seek support and endeavour to make friends in a variety

of corrupt ways, two very serious evils will result: first, that the

governed city will never be contented with its governors, since there

can be no good government where you often change its form, adapting

yourself to the humours now of one party and now of another; and next,

that the factious spirit of the subject city is certain to infect your

own republic. To which Biondo testifies, when, in speaking of the

citizens of Florence and Pistoja, he says, “_In seeking to unite

Pistoja the Florentines themselves fell out_.”[15]

[15] _Flav. Blondri Hist._, dec. ii. lib. 9. Basle ed. 1559, p. 337

It is easy, therefore, to understand how much mischief attends on such

divisions. In the year 1501, when we lost Arezzo, and when all the Val

di Tevere and Val di Chiana were occupied by the Vitelli and by Duke

Valentino, a certain M. de Lant was sent by the King of France to cause

the whole of the lost towns to be restored to the Florentines; who

finding in all these towns men who came to him claiming to be of the

party of the _Marzocco_,[16] greatly blamed this distinction,

observing, that if in France any of the king’s subjects were to say

that he was of the king’s party, he would be punished; since the

expression would imply that there was a party hostile to the king,

whereas it was his majesty’s desire that all his subjects should be his

friends and live united without any distinction of party. But all these

mistaken methods and opinions originate in the weakness of rulers, who,

seeing that they cannot hold their States by their own strength and

valour, have recourse to like devices; which, if now and then in

tranquil times they prove of some slight assistance to them, in times

of danger are shown to be worthless.

[16] The heraldic Lion of Florence.

CHAPTER XXVIII.—_That a Republic must keep an eye on what its Citizens

are about; since often the seeds of a Tyranny lie hidden under a

semblance of generous deeds._

The granaries of Rome not sufficing to meet a famine with which the

city was visited, a certain Spurius Melius, a very wealthy citizen for

these days, privately laid in a supply of corn wherewith to feed the

people at his own expense; gaining thereby such general favour with the

commons, that the senate, apprehending that his bounty might have

dangerous consequences, in order to crush him before he grew too

powerful, appointed a dictator to deal with him and caused him to be

put to death.

Here we have to note that actions which seem good in themselves and

unlikely to occasion harm to any one, very often become hurtful, nay,

unless corrected in time, most dangerous for a republic. And to treat

the matter with greater fulness, I say, that while a republic can never

maintain itself long, or manage its affairs to advantage, without

citizens of good reputation, on the other hand the credit enjoyed by

particular citizens often leads to the establishment of a tyranny. For

which reasons, and that things may take a safe course, it should be so

arranged that a citizen shall have credit only for such behaviour as

benefits, and not for such as injures the State and its liberties. We

must therefore examine by what ways credit is acquired. These, briefly,

are two, public or secret. Public, when a citizen gains a great name by

advising well or by acting still better for the common advantage. To

credit of this sort we should open a wide door, holding out rewards

both for good counsels and for good actions, so that he who renders

such services may be at once honoured and satisfied. Reputation

acquired honestly and openly by such means as these can never be

dangerous. But credit acquired by secret practices, which is the other

method spoken of, is most perilous and prejudicial. Of such secret

practices may be instanced, acts of kindness done to this or the other

citizen in lending him money, in assisting him to marry his daughters,

in defending him against the magistrates, and in conferring such other

private favours as gain men devoted adherents, and encourage them after

they have obtained such support, to corrupt the institutions of the

State and to violate its laws.

A well-governed republic, therefore, ought, as I have said, to throw

wide the door to all who seek public favour by open courses, and to

close it against any who would ingratiate themselves by underhand

means. And this we find was done in Rome. For the Roman republic, as a

reward to any citizen who served it well, ordained triumphs and all the

other honours which it had to bestow; while against those who sought to

aggrandize themselves by secret intrigues, it ordained accusations and

impeachment; and when, from the people being blinded by a false show of

benevolence, these proved insufficient, it provided for a dictator, who

with regal authority might bring to bounds any who had strayed beyond

them, as instanced in the case of Spurius Melius. And if conduct like

his be ever suffered to pass unchastised, it may well be the ruin of a

republic, for men when they have such examples set them are not easily

led back into the right path.

CHAPTER XXIX.—_That the Faults of a People are due to its Prince._

Let no prince complain of the faults committed by a people under his

control; since these must be ascribed either to his negligence, or to

his being himself blemished by similar defects. And were any one to

consider what peoples in our own times have been most given to robbery

and other like offences, he would find that they have only copied their

rulers, who have themselves been of a like nature. Romagna, before

those lords who ruled it were driven out by Pope Alexander VI., was a

nursery of all the worst crimes, the slightest occasion giving rise to

wholesale rapine and murder. This resulted from the wickedness of these

lords, and not, as they asserted, from the evil disposition of their

subjects. For these princes being poor, yet choosing to live as though

they were rich, were forced to resort to cruelties innumerable and

practised in divers ways; and among other shameful devices contrived by

them to extort money, they would pass laws prohibiting certain acts,

and then be the first to give occasion for breaking them; nor would

they chastise offenders until they saw many involved in the same

offence; when they fell to punishing, not from any zeal for the laws

which they had made, but out of greed to realize the penalty. Whence

flowed many mischiefs, and more particularly this, that the people

being impoverished, but not corrected, sought to make good their

injuries at the expense of others weaker than themselves. And thus

there sprang up all those evils spoken of above, whereof the prince is

the true cause.

The truth of what I say is confirmed by Titus Livius where he relates

how the Roman envoys, who were conveying the spoils of the Veientines

as an offering to Apollo, were seized and brought on shore by the

corsairs of the Lipari islands in Sicily; when Timasitheus, the prince

of these islands, on learning the nature of the offering, its

destination, and by whom sent, though himself of Lipari, behaved as a

Roman might, showing his people what sacrilege it would be to intercept

such a gift, and speaking to such purpose that by general consent the

envoys were suffered to proceed upon their voyage, taking all their

possessions with them. With reference to which incident the historian

observes: “_The multitude, who always take their colour from their

ruler, were filled by Timasitheus with a religious awe._” And to like

purport we find it said by Lorenzo de’ Medici:—

“A prince’s acts his people imitate;

For on their lord the eyes of all men wait.”[17]

[17] E quel che fa il signer, fanno poi molti;

Chè nel signer son tutti gli occhi volti.

(_La Rappresentazione di San Giovanni e Paolo._)

CHAPTER XXX.—_That a Citizen who seeks by his personal influence to

render signal service to his Country, must first stand clear of Envy.

How a City should prepare for its defence on the approach of an Enemy._

When the Roman senate learned that all Etruria was assembled in arms to

march against Rome, and that the Latins and Hernicians, who before had

been the friends of the Romans, had ranged themselves with the

Volscians the ancient enemies of the Roman name, they foresaw that a

perilous contest awaited them. But because Camillus was at that time

tribune with consular authority they thought all might be managed

without the appointment of a dictator, provided the other tribunes, his

colleagues would agree to his assuming the sole direction of affairs.

This they willingly did; “_nor_,” says Titus Livius, “_did they account

anything as taken from their own dignity which was added to his._”

On receiving their promise of obedience, Camillus gave orders that

three armies should be enrolled. Of the first, which was to be directed

against the Etruscans, he himself assumed command. The command of the

second, which he meant to remain near Rome and meet any movement of the

Latins and Hernicians, he gave to Quintius Servilius. The third army,

which he designed for the protection of the city, and the defence of

the gates and Curia, he entrusted to Lucius Quintius. And he further

directed, that Horatius, one of his colleagues, should furnish supplies

of arms, and corn, and of all else needful in time of war. Finally he

put forward his colleague Cornelius to preside in the senate and public

council, that from day to day he might advise what should be done. For

in those times these tribunes were ready either to command or obey as

the welfare of their country might require.

We may gather from this passage how a brave and prudent man should act,

how much good he may effect, and how serviceable he may be to his

country, when by the force of his character and worth he succeeds in

extinguishing envy. For this often disables men from acting to the best

advantage, not permitting them to obtain that authority which it is

essential they should have in matters of importance. Now, envy may be

extinguished in one or other of two ways: first, by the approach of

some flagrant danger, whereby seeing themselves like to be overwhelmed,

all forego their own private ambition and lend a willing obedience to

him who counts on his valour to rescue them. As in the case of

Camillas, who from having given many proofs of surpassing ability, and

from having been three times dictator and always exercised the office

for the public good and not for his private advantage, had brought men

to fear nothing from his advancement; while his fame and reputation

made it no shame for them to recognize him as their superior. Wisely,

therefore, does Titus Livius use concerning him the words which I have

cited.

The other way in which envy may be extinguished, is by the death,

whether by violence or in the ordinary course of nature, of those who

have been your rivals in the pursuit of fame or power, and who seeing

you better esteemed than themselves, could never acquiesce in your

superiority or put up with it in patience. For when these men have been

brought up in a corrupt city, where their training is little likely to

improve them, nothing that can happen will induce them to withdraw

their pretensions; nay, to have their own way and satisfy their

perverse humour, they will be content to look on while their country is

ruined. For envy such as this there is no cure save by the death of

those of whom it has taken possession. And when fortune so befriends a

great man that his rivals are removed from his path by a natural death,

his glory is established without scandal or offence, since he is then

able to display his great qualities unhindered. But when fortune is not

thus propitious to him, he must contrive other means to rid himself of

rivals, and must do so successfully before he can accomplish anything.

Any one who reads with intelligence the lessons of Holy Writ, will

remember how Moses, to give effect to his laws and ordinances, was

constrained to put to death an endless number of those who out of mere

envy withstood his designs. The necessity of this course was well

understood by the Friar Girolamo Savonarola, and by the Gonfalonier

Piero Soderini. But the former could not comply with it, because, as a

friar, he himself lacked the needful authority; while those of his

followers who might have exercised that authority, did not rightly

comprehend his teaching. This, however, was no fault of his; for his

sermons are full of invectives and attacks against “_the wise of this

world_,” that being the name he gave to envious rivals and to all who

opposed his reforms. As for Piero Soderini, he was possessed by the

belief that in time and with favourable fortune he could allay envy by

gentleness-and by benefits conferred on particular men; for as he was

still in the prime of life, and in the fresh enjoyment of that

good-will which his character and opinions had gained for him, he

thought to get the better of all who out of jealousy opposed him,

without giving occasion for tumult, violence, or disorder; not knowing

how time stays not, worth suffices not, fortune shifts, and malice will

not be won over by any benefit Wherefore, because they could not or

knew not how to vanquish this envy, the two whom I have named came to

their downfall.

Another point to be noted in the passage we are considering, is the

careful provision made by Camillus for the safety of Rome both within

and without the city. And, truly, not without reason do wise

historians, like our author, set forth certain events with much

minuteness and detail, to the end that those who come after may learn

how to protect themselves in like dangers. Further, we have to note

that there is no more hazardous or less useful defence than one

conducted without method or system. This is shown in Camillus causing a

third army to be enrolled that it might be left in Rome for the

protection of the city. Many persons, doubtless, both then and now,

would esteem this precaution superfluous, thinking that as the Romans

were a warlike people and constantly under arms, there could be no

occasion for a special levy, and that it was time enough to arm when

the need came. But Camillus, and any other equally prudent captain

would be of the same mind, judged otherwise, not permitting the

multitude to take up arms unless they were to be bound by the rules and

discipline of military service. Let him, therefore, who is called on to

defend a city, taking example by Camillus, before all things avoid

placing arms in the hands of an undisciplined multitude, but first of

all select and enroll those whom he proposes to arm, so that they may

be wholly governed by him as to where they shall assemble and whither

they shall march; and then let him direct those who are not enrolled,

to abide every man in his own house for its defence. Whosoever observes

this method in a city which is attacked, will be able to defend it with

ease; but whosoever disregards it, and follows not the example of

Camillus, shall never succeed.

CHAPTER XXXI.—_That strong Republics and valiant Men preserve through

every change the same Spirit and Bearing._

Among other high sayings which our historian ascribes to Camillus, as

showing of what stuff a truly great man should be made, he puts in his

mouth the words, “_My courage came not with my dictatorship nor went

with my exile;_” for by these words we are taught that a great man is

constantly the same through all vicissitudes of Fortune; so that

although she change, now exalting, now depressing, he remains

unchanged, and retains always a mind so unmoved, and in such complete

accordance with his nature as declares to all that over him Fortune has

no dominion.

Very different is the behaviour of those weak-minded mortals who,

puffed up and intoxicated with their success, ascribe all their

felicity to virtues which they never knew, and thus grow hateful and

insupportable to all around them. Whence also the changes in their

fortunes. For whenever they have to look adversity in the face, they

suddenly pass to the other extreme, becoming abject and base. And thus

it happens that feeble-minded princes, when they fall into

difficulties, think rather of flight than of defence, because, having

made bad use of their prosperity, they are wholly unprepared to defend

themselves.

The same merits and defects which I say are found in individual men,

are likewise found in republics, whereof we have example in the case of

Rome and of Venice. For no reverse of fortune ever broke the spirit of

the Roman people, nor did any success ever unduly elate them; as we see

plainly after their defeat at Cannæ, and after the victory they had

over Antiochus. For the defeat at Cannæ, although most momentous, being

the third they had met with, no whit daunted them; so that they

continued to send forth armies, refused to ransom prisoners as contrary

to their custom, and despatched no envoy to Hannibal or to Carthage to

sue for peace; but without ever looking back on past humiliations,

thought always of war, though in such straits for soldiers that they

had to arm their old men and slaves. Which facts being made known to

Hanno the Carthaginian, he, as I have already related, warned the

Carthaginian senate not to lay too much stress upon their victory.

Here, therefore, we see that in times of adversity the Romans were

neither cast down nor dismayed. On the other hand, no prosperity ever

made them arrogant. Before fighting the battle wherein he was finally

routed, Antiochus sent messengers to Scipio to treat for an accord;

when Scipio offered peace on condition that he withdrew at once into

Syria, leaving all his other dominions to be dealt with by the Romans

as they thought fit. Antiochus refusing these terms, fought and was

defeated, and again sent envoys to Scipio, enjoining them to accept

whatever conditions the victor might be pleased to impose. But Scipio

proposed no different terms from those he had offered before saying

that “_the Romans, as they lost not heart on defeat, so waxed not

insolent with success._”

The contrary of all this is seen in the behaviour of the Venetians, who

thinking their good fortune due to valour of which they were devoid, in

their pride addressed the French king as “Son of St. Mark;” and making

no account of the Church, and no longer restricting their ambition to

the limits of Italy, came to dream of founding an empire like the

Roman. But afterwards, when their good fortune deserted them, and they

met at Vailà a half-defeat at the hands of the French king, they lost

their whole dominions, not altogether from revolt, but mainly by a base

and abject surrender to the Pope and the King of Spain. Nay, so low did

they stoop as to send ambassadors to the Emperor offering to become his

tributaries, and to write letters to the Pope, full of submission and

servility, in order to move his compassion. To such abasement were they

brought in four days’ time by what was in reality only a half-defeat.

For on their flight after the battle of Vailà only about a half of

their forces were engaged, and one of their two provedditori escaped to

Verona with five and twenty thousand men, horse and foot. So that had

there been a spark of valour in Venice, or any soundness in her

military system, she might easily have renewed her armies, and again

confronting fortune have stood prepared either to conquer, or, if she

must fall, to fall more gloriously; and at any rate might have obtained

for herself more honourable terms. But a pusillanimous spirit,

occasioned by the defects of her ordinances in so far as they relate to

war, caused her to lose at once her courage and her dominions. And so

will it always happen with those who behave like the Venetians. For

when men grow insolent in good fortune, and abject inn evil, the fault

lies in themselves and in the character of their training, which, when

slight and frivolous, assimilates them to itself; but when otherwise,

makes them of another temper, and giving them better acquaintance with

the world, causes them to be less disheartened by misfortunes and less

elated by success.

And while this is true of individual men, it holds good also of a

concourse of men living together in one republic, who will arrive at

that measure of perfection which the institutions of their State

permit. And although I have already said on another occasion that a

good militia is the foundation of all States, and where that is wanting

there can neither be good laws, nor aught else that is good, it seems

to me not superfluous to say the same again; because in reading this

history of Titus Livius the necessity of such a foundation is made

apparent in every page. It is likewise shown that no army can be good

unless it be thoroughly trained and exercised, and that this can only

be the case with an army raised from your own subjects. For as a State

is not and cannot always be at war, you must have opportunity to train

your army in times of peace; but this, having regard to the cost, you

can only have in respect of your own subjects.

When Camillus, as already related, went forth to meet the Etruscans,

his soldiers on seeing the great army of their enemy, were filled with

fear, thinking themselves too to withstand its onset. This untoward

disposition being reported to Camillus, he showed himself to his men

and by visiting their tents, and conversing with this and the other

among them, was able to remove their misgivings; and, finally, without

other word of command, he bade them “_each do his part as he had

learned and been accustomed_.” Now, any one who well considers the

methods followed by Camillus, and the words spoken by him to encourage

his soldiers to face their enemy, will perceive that these words and

methods could never have been used with an army which had not been

trained and disciplined in time of peace as well as of war. For no

captain can trust to untrained soldiers or look for good service at

their hands; nay, though he were another Hannibal, with such troops his

defeat were certain. For, as a captain cannot be present everywhere

while a battle is being fought, unless he have taken all measures

beforehand to render his men of the same temper as himself, and have

made sure that they perfectly understand his orders and arrangements,

he will inevitably be destroyed.

When a city therefore is armed and trained as Rome was, and when its

citizens have daily opportunity, both singly and together, to make

trial of their valour and learn what fortune can effect, it will always

happen, that at all times, and whether circumstances be adverse or

favourable, they will remain of unaltered courage and preserve the same

noble bearing. But when its citizens are unpractised in arms, and trust

not to their own valour but wholly to the arbitration of Fortune, they

will change their temper as she changes, and offer always the same

example of behaviour as was given by the Venetians.

CHAPTER XXXII.—_Of the methods which some have used to make Peace

impossible_.

The towns of Cære and Velitræ, two of her own colonies, revolted from

Rome in expectation of being protected by the Latins. But the Latins

being routed and all hopes of help from that quarter at an end, many of

the townsmen recommended that envoys should be sent to Rome to make

their peace with the senate. This proposal, however, was defeated by

those who had been the prime movers of the revolt, who, fearing that

the whole punishment might fall on their heads, to put a stop to any

talk of an adjustment, incited the multitude to take up arms and make a

foray into the Roman territory.

And, in truth, when it is desired that a prince or people should banish

from their minds every thought of reconciliation, there is no surer or

more effectual plan than to incite them to inflict grave wrong on him

with whom you would not have them be reconciled; for, then, the fear of

that punishment which they will seem to themselves to have deserved,

will always keep them apart. At the close of the first war waged by the

Romans against Carthage, the soldiers who had served under the

Carthaginians in Sardinia and Sicily, upon peace being proclaimed,

returned to Africa; where, being dissatisfied with their pay, they

mutinied against the Carthaginians, and choosing two of their number,

Mato and Spendio, to be their leaders, seized and sacked many towns

subject to Carthage. The Carthaginians, being loath to use force until

they had tried all other methods for bringing them to reason, sent

Hasdrubal, their fellow-citizen, to mediate with them, thinking that

from formerly having commanded them he might be able to exercise some

influence over them. But on his arrival, Spendio and Mato, to

extinguish any hope these mutineers might have had of making peace with

Carthage, and so leave them no alternative but war, persuaded them that

their best course was to put Hasdrubal, with all the other Carthaginian

citizens whom they had taken prisoners, to death. Whereupon, they not

only put them to death, but first subjected them to an infinity of

tortures; crowning their wickedness by a proclamation to the effect

that every Carthaginian who might thereafter fall into their hands

should meet a like fate. This advice, therefore, and its consummation

had the effect of rendering these mutineers relentless and inveterate

in their hostility to the Carthaginians.

CHAPTER XXXIII.—_That to insure victory in battle you must inspire your

Men with confidence in one another and in you._

To insure an army being victorious in battle you must inspire it with

the conviction that it is certain to prevail. The causes which give it

this confidence are its being well armed and disciplined, and the

soldiers knowing one another. These conditions are only to be found

united in soldiers born and bred in the same country.

It is likewise essential that the army should think so well of its

captain as to trust implicitly to his prudence; which it will always do

if it see him careful of its welfare, attentive to discipline, brave in

battle, and otherwise supporting well and honourably the dignity of his

position. These conditions he fulfils when, while punishing faults, he

does not needlessly harass his men, keeps his word with them, shows

them that the path to victory is easy, and conceals from them, or makes

light of things which seen from a distance might appear to threaten

danger. The observance of these precautions will give an army great

confidence, and such confidence leads to victory.

This confidence the Romans were wont to inspire in the minds of their

soldiers by the aid of religion; and accordingly their consuls were

appointed, their armies were enrolled, their soldiers marched forth,

and their battles were begun, only when the auguries and auspices were

favourable; and without attending to all these observances no prudent

captain would ever engage in combat; knowing that unless his soldiers

were first assured that the gods were on their side, he might readily

suffer defeat. But if any consul or other leader ever joined battle

contrary to the auspices, the Romans would punish him, as they did

Claudius Pulcher.

The truth of what I affirm is plainly seen from the whole course of the

Roman history, but is more particularly established by the words which

Livius puts into the mouth of Appius Claudius, who, when complaining to

the people of the insolence of the tribunes, and taxing them with

having caused the corruption of the auspices and other rites of

religion, is made to say, “_And now they would strip even religion of

its authority. For what matters it, they will tell you, that the fowls

refuse to peck, or come slowly from the coop, or that a cock has

crowed? These are small matters doubtless; but it was by not contemning

such small matters as these, that our forefathers built up this great

republic._” And, indeed, in these small matters lies a power which

keeps men united and of good courage, which is of itself the chief

condition of success.

But the observances of religion must be accompanied by valour, for

otherwise they can nothing avail. The men of Praneste, leading forth

their army against the Romans, took up their position near the river

Allia, on the very spot where the Romans had been routed by the Gauls,

selecting this ground that it might inspire their own side with

confidence, and dishearten their enemies with the unhappy memories

which it recalled But although, for the reasons already noted, this was

a course which promised success, the result nevertheless showed that

true valour is not to be daunted by trifling disadvantages. And this

the historian well expresses by the words he puts in the mouth of the

dictator as spoken to his master of the knights “_See how these

fellows, in encamping on the banks of the Allia, have chosen their

ground in reliance upon fortune. Do you, therefore, relying on

discipline and valour, fall upon then centre._” For true valour, tight

discipline, and the feeling of security gained by repeated victories,

are not to be counteracted by things of no real moment, dismayed by

empty terrors, or quelled by a solitary mishap. As was well seen when

the two Manlii, being consuls in command against the Volscians, rashly

allowed a part of their army to go out foraging, and both those who

went out and those who stayed behind found themselves attacked at the

same moment For from this danger they were saved by the courage of the

soldiers, and not by the foresight of the consuls. With regard to which

occurrence Titus Livius observes, “_Even without a leader the steadfast

valour of the soldiers was maintained._”

Here I must not omit to notice the device practised by Fabius to give

his army confidence, when he led it for the first time into Etruria.

For judging such encouragement to be especially needed by his men,

since they were entering an unknown country to encounter a new foe, he

addressed them before they joined battle, and, after reciting many

reasons for expecting a victory, told them, that “_he could have

mentioned other favourable circumstances making victory certain, had it

not been dangerous to disclose them._” And as this device was

dexterously used it merits imitation.

CHAPTER XXXIV.—_By what reports, rumours, or surmises the Citizens of a

Republic are led to favour a Fellow-citizen: and-whether the

Magistracies are bestowed with better judgment by a People or by a

Prince._

I have elsewhere related how Titus Manlius, afterwards named Torquatus,

rescued his father from the charge laid against him by Marcus

Pomponius, tribune of the people. And though the means he took to

effect this were somewhat violent and irregular, so pleasing to

everyone were his filial piety and affection, that not only did he

escape rebuke, but when military tribunes had to be appointed his name

was second on the list of those chosen. To explain his good fortune, it

will, I think, be useful to consider what are the methods followed by

the citizens of a republic in estimating the character of those on whom

they bestow honours, so as to see whether what I have already said on

this head be true, namely, that a people is more discriminating in

awarding honours than a prince.

I say, then, that in conferring honours and offices, the people, when

it has no knowledge of a man from his public career, follows the

estimate given of him by the general voice, and by common report; or

else is guided by some prepossession or preconceived opinion which it

has adopted concerning him. Such impressions are formed either from

consideration of a man’s descent (it being assumed, until the contrary

appears, that where his ancestors have been great and distinguished

citizens their descendant will resemble them), or else from regard to

his manners and habits; and nothing can be more in his favour than that

he frequents the company of the grave and virtuous, and such as are

generally reputed wise. For as we can have no better clue to a man’s

character than the company he keeps, he who frequents worthy company

deservedly obtains a good name, since there can hardly fail to be some

similarity between himself and his associates. Sometimes, however, the

popular estimate of a man is founded on some remarkable and noteworthy

action, though not of public moment, in which he has acquitted himself

well. And of all the three causes which create a prepossession in a

man’s favour, none is so effectual as this last. For the presumption

that he will resemble his ancestors and kinsmen is so often misleading,

that men are slow to trust and quick to discard it, unless confirmed by

the personal worth of him of whom they are judging.

The criterion of character afforded by a man’s manners and conversation

is a safer guide than the presumption of inherited excellence, but is

far inferior to that afforded by his actions; for until he has given

actual proof of his worth, his credit is built on mere opinion, which

may readily change. But this third mode of judging, which originates in

and rests upon his actions, at once gives him a name which can only be

destroyed by his afterwards doing many actions of a contrary nature.

Those therefore who live in a republic should conform to this third

criterion, and endeavour, as did many of the Roman youth, to make their

start in life with some extraordinary achievement, either by promoting

a law conducive to the general well-being, or by accusing some powerful

citizen as a transgressor of the laws, or by performing some similar

new and notable action which cannot fail to be much spoken of.

Actions like this are necessary not only to lay a foundation for your

fame, but also to maintain and extend it. To which end, they must

continually be renewed, as we find done by Titus Manlius throughout the

whole course of his life. For after winning his earliest renown by his

bold and singular defence of his father, when some years had passed he

fought his famous duel with the Gaul, from whom, when he had slain him,

he took the twisted golden collar which gave him the name of Torquatus.

Nor was this the last of his remarkable actions, for at a later period,

when he was of ripe years, he caused his own son to be put to death,

because he had fought without leave, although successfully. Which three

actions gained for him at the time a greater name, and have made him

more renowned through after ages than all his triumphs and victories,

though of these he had as large a share as fell to the lot of any other

Roman. The explanation of which is, that while in his victories Manlius

had many who resembled him, in these particular actions he stood almost

or entirely alone.

So, too, with the elder Scipio, all whose victories together did not

obtain for him so much reputation, as did his rescue, while he was yet

young, of his father at the Ticino, and his undaunted bearing after the

rout at Cannæ, when with his naked sword he constrained a number of the

Roman youth to swear never to abandon their country, as some among them

had before been minded to do. It was these two actions, therefore,

which laid the foundation of his future fame and paved the way for his

triumphs in Spain and Africa. And the fair esteem in which men held

him, was still further heightened when in Spain he restored a daughter

to her father, a wife to her husband.

Nor is it only the citizen who seeks reputation as leading to civil

honours, who must act in this way; the prince who would maintain his

credit in his princedom must do likewise; since nothing helps so much

to make a prince esteemed as to give signal proofs of his worth,

whether by words or by deeds which tend to promote the public good, and

show him to be so magnanimous, generous, and just, that he may well

pass into a proverb among his subjects. But to return to the point

whence I digressed, I say that if a people, when they first confer

honours on a fellow-citizen, rest their judgment on any one of the

three circumstances above-mentioned, they build on a reasonable

foundation; but, when many instances of noble conduct have made a man

favourably known, that the foundation is still better, since then there

is hardly room for mistake. I speak merely of those honours which are

bestowed on a man at the outset of his career, before he has come to be

known by continued proof, or is found to have passed from one kind of

conduct to another and dissimilar kind, and I maintain that in such

cases, so far as erroneous judgments or corrupt motives are concerned,

a people will always commit fewer mistakes than a prince.

But since a people may happen to be deceived as regards the character,

reputation, and actions of a man, thinking them better or greater than

in truth they are, an error a prince is less likely to fall into from

his being informed and warned by his advisers, in order that the people

may not lack similar advice, wise founders of republics have provided,

that when the highest dignities of the State, to which it would be

dangerous to appoint incapable men, have to be filled up, and it

appears that some incapable man is the object of the popular choice, it

shall be lawful and accounted honourable for any citizen to declare in

the public assemblies the defects of the favoured candidate, that the

people, being made acquainted therewith, may be better able to judge of

his fitness. That this was the practice in Rome we have proof in the

speech made by Fabius Maximus to the people during the second Punic

war, when in the appointment of consuls public favour leaned towards

Titus Ottacilius. For Fabius judging him unequal to the duties of the

consulship at such a crisis, spoke against him and pointed out his

insufficiency, and so prevented his appointment, turning the popular

favour towards another who deserved it more.

In the choice of its magistrates, therefore, a people judges of those

among whom it has to choose, in accordance with the surest indications

it can get; and when it can be advised as princes are, makes fewer

mistakes than they. But the citizen who would make a beginning by

gaining the good-will of the people, must, to obtain it, perform, like

Titus Manlius, some noteworthy action.

CHAPTER XXXV.—_Of the Danger incurred in being the first to recommend

new Measures; and that the more unusual the Measures the greater the

Danger_.

How perilous a thing it is to put one’s self at the head of changes

whereby many are affected, how difficult to guide and bring them to

perfection, and when perfected to maintain them, were too wide and

arduous a subject to be treated here. Wherefore I reserve it for a

fitter occasion, and shall now speak only of those dangers which are

incurred by the citizens of a republic or by the counsellors of a

prince in being the first to promote some grave and important measure

in such manner that the whole responsibility attending it rests with

them. For as men judge of things by their results, any evil which

ensues from such measures will be imputed to their author. And although

if good ensue he will be applauded, nevertheless in matters of this

kind, what a man may gain is as nothing to what he may lose.

Selim, the present sultan, or Grand Turk as he is called, being in

readiness, as some who come from his country relate, to set forth on an

expedition against Egypt and Syria, was urged by one of his bashaws

whom he had stationed on the confines of Persia, to make war upon the

Sofi. In compliance with which advice he went on this new enterprise

with a vast army. But coming to a great plain, wherein were many

deserts and few streams, and encountering the same difficulties as in

ancient times had proved the ruin of many Roman armies, he suffered so

much from pestilence and famine, that, although victorious in battle,

he lost a great part of his men. This so enraged him against the bashaw

on whose advice he had acted, that he forthwith put him to death.

In like manner, we read of many citizens who having strenuously

promoted various measures were banished when these turned out badly.

Certain citizens of Rome, for instance, were very active in forwarding

a law allowing the appointment of a plebeian to be consul. This law

passing, it so happened that the first plebeian consul who went forth

with the armies was routed; and had it not been that the party in whose

behalf the law was made was extremely powerful, its promoters would

have fared badly. It is plain therefore that the counsellors whether of

a republic or of a prince stand in this dilemma, that if they do not

conscientiously advise whatsoever they think advantageous for their

city or prince, they fail in their duty; if they do advise it, they

risk their places and their lives; all men being subject to this

infirmity of judging advice by the event.

When I consider in what way this reproach or this danger may best be

escaped, I find no other remedy to recommend than that in giving advice

you proceed discreetly not identifying yourself in a special manner

with the measure you would see carried out, but offering your opinion

without heat, and supporting it temperately and modestly, so that if

the prince or city follow it, they shall do so of their own good-will,

and not seem to be dragged into it by your importunity. When you act

thus, neither prince nor people can reasonably bear you a grudge in

respect of the advice given by you, since that advice was not adopted

contrary to the general opinion. For your danger lies in many having

opposed you, who afterwards, should your advice prove hurtful, combine

to ruin you. And although in taking this course you fall short of the

glory which is earned by him who stands alone against many in urging

some measure which succeeds, you have nevertheless two advantages to

make up for it: first, that you escape danger; and second, that when

you have temperately stated your views, and when, in consequence of

opposition, your advice has not been taken, should other counsels

prevail and mischief come of them, your credit will be vastly enhanced.

And although credit gained at the cost of misfortune to your prince or

city cannot be matter of rejoicing, still it is something to be taken

into account.

On this head, then, I know of no other advice to offer. For that you

should be silent and express no opinion at all, were a course hurtful

for your prince or city, and which would not absolve you from danger,

since you would soon grow to be suspected, when it might fare with you

as with the friend of Perseus the Macedonian king. For Perseus being

defeated by Paulus Emilius, and making his escape with a few

companions, it happened that one of them, in reviewing the past, began

to point out to the king many mistakes which he had made and which had

been his ruin. Whereupon Perseus turning upon him said, “_Traitor, hast

thou waited till now when there is no remedy to tell me these things_?”

and so saying, slew him with his own hand. Such was the penalty

incurred by one who was silent when he should have spoken, and who

spoke when he should have been silent; and who found no escape from

danger in having refrained from giving advice. Wherefore, I believe,

that the course which I have recommended should be observed and

followed.

CHAPTER XXXVI.—_Why it has been and still may be affirmed of the Gauls,

that at the beginning of a fray they are more than Men, but afterwards

less than Women_.

The bravery of the Gaul who on the banks of the Anio challenged any

among the Romans to fight with him, and the combat that thereupon

ensued between him and Titus Manlius, remind me of what Titus Livius

oftener than once observes in his history, that “_at the beginning of a

fray the Gauls are more than men, but ere it is ended show themselves

less than women_.”

Touching the cause of this, many are content to believe that such is

their nature, which, indeed, I take to be true; but we are not,

therefore, to assume that the natural temper which makes them brave at

the outset, may not be so trained and regulated as to keep them brave

to the end. And, to prove this, I say, that armies are of three kinds.

In one of these you have discipline with bravery and valour as its

consequence. Such was the Roman army, which is shown by all historians

to have maintained excellent discipline as the result of constant

military training. And because in a well-disciplined army none must do

anything save by rule, we find that in the Roman army, from which as it

conquered the world all others should take example, none either eat, or

slept, or bought, or sold, or did anything else, whether in his

military or in his private capacity, without orders from the consul.

Those armies which do otherwise are not true armies, and if ever they

have any success, it is owing to the fury and impetuosity of their

onset and not to trained and steady valour. But of this impetuosity and

fury, trained valour, when occasion requires, will make use; nor will

any danger daunt it or cause it to lose heart, its courage being kept

alive by its discipline, and its confidence fed by the hope of victory

which never fails it while that discipline is maintained.

But the contrary happens with armies of the second sort, those, namely,

which have impetuosity without discipline, as was the case with the

Gauls whose courage in a protracted conflict gradually wore away; so

that unless they succeeded in their first attack, the impetuosity to

which they trusted, having no support from disciplined valour, soon

cooled; when, as they had nothing else to depend on, their efforts

ceased. The Romans, on the other hand, being less disquieted in danger

by reason of their perfect discipline, and never losing hope, fought

steadily and stubbornly to the last, and with the same courage at the

end as at the outset; nay, growing heated by the conflict, only became

the fiercer the longer it was continued.

In armies of the third sort both natural spirit and trained valour are

wanting; and to this class belong the Italian armies of our own times,

of which it may be affirmed that they are absolutely worthless, never

obtaining a victory, save when, by some accident, the enemy they

encounter takes to flight. But since we have daily proofs of this

absence of valour, it were needless to set forth particular instances

of it.

That all, however, may know on the testimony of Titus Livius what

methods a good army should take, and what are taken by a bad army, I

shall cite the words he represents Papirius Cursor to have used when

urging that Fabius, his master of the knights, should be punished for

disobedience, and denouncing the consequences which would ensue were he

absolved, saying:—“_Let neither God nor man be held in reverence; let

the orders of captains and the Divine auspices be alike disregarded;

let a vagrant soldiery range without leave through the country of

friend or foe; reckless of their military oath, let them disband at

their pleasure; let them forsake their deserted standards, and neither

rally nor disperse at the word of command; let them fight when they

choose, by day or by night, with or without advantage of ground, with

or without the bidding of their leader, neither maintaining their ranks

_nor observing the order of battle; and let our armies, from being a

solemn and consecrated company, grow to resemble some dark and

fortuitous gathering of cut-throats._” With this passage before us, it

is easy to pronounce whether the armies of our times be “_a dark and

fortuitous gathering_,” or “_a solemn and consecrated company_;” nay,

how far they fall short of anything worthy to be called an army,

possessing neither the impetuous but disciplined valour of the Romans,

nor even the mere undisciplined impetuosity of the Gauls.

CHAPTER XXXVII.—_Whether a general engagement should be preceded by

skirmishes; and how, avoiding these, we may get knowledge of a new

Enemy._

Besides all the other difficulties which hinder men from bringing

anything to its utmost perfection, it appears, as I have already

observed, that in close vicinity to every good is found also an evil,

so apt to grow up along with it that it is hardly possible to have the

one without accepting the other. This we see in all human affairs, and

the result is, that unless fortune aid us to overcome this natural and

common disadvantage, we never arrive at any excellence. I am reminded

of this by the combat between Titus Manlius and the Gaul, concerning

which Livius writes that it “_determined the issue of the entire war;

since the Gauls, abandoning their camp, hastily withdrew to the country

about Tivoli, whence they presently passed into Campania._”

It may be said, therefore, on the one hand, that a prudent captain

ought absolutely to refrain from all those operations which, while of

trifling moment in themselves, may possibly produce an ill effect on

his army. Now, to engage in a combat wherein you risk your whole

fortunes without putting forth your entire strength, is, as I observed

before, when condemning the defence of a country by guarding its

defiles, an utterly foolhardy course. On the other hand, it is to be

said that a prudent captain, when he has to meet a new and redoubtable

adversary, ought, before coming to a general engagement, to accustom

his men by skirmishes and passages of arms, to the quality of their

enemy; that they may learn to know him, and how to deal with him, and

so free themselves from the feeling of dread which his name and fame

inspire.

This for a captain is a matter of the very greatest importance, and one

which it might be almost fatal for him to neglect, since to risk a

pitched battle without first giving your soldiers such opportunities to

know their enemy and shake off their fear of him, is to rush on certain

destruction. When Valerius Corvinus was sent by the Romans with their

armies against the Samnites, these being new adversaries with whom up

to that time they had not measured their strength, Titus Livius tells

us that before giving battle he made his men make trial of the enemy in

several unimportant skirmishes, “_lest they should be dismayed by a new

foe and a new method of warfare._” Nevertheless, there is very great

danger that, if your soldiers get the worst in these encounters, their

alarm and self-distrust may be increased, and a result follow contrary

to that intended, namely, that you dispirit where you meant to

reassure.

This, therefore, is one of those cases in which the evil lies so nigh

the good, and both are so mixed up together that you may readily lay

hold of the one when you think to grasp the other. And with regard to

this I say, that a good captain should do what he can that nothing

happen which might discourage his men, nor is there anything so likely

to discourage them as to begin with a defeat. For which reason

skirmishes are, as a rule, to be avoided, and only to be allowed where

you fight to great advantage and with a certainty of victory. In like

manner, no attempt should be made to defend the passes leading into

your country unless your whole army can co-operate; nor are any towns

to be defended save those whose loss necessarily involves your ruin.

And as to those towns which you do defend, you must so arrange, both in

respect of the garrison within and the army without, that in the event

of a siege your whole forces can be employed. All other towns you must

leave undefended. For, provided your army be kept together, you do not,

in losing what you voluntarily abandon, forfeit your military

reputation, or sacrifice your hopes of final success. But when you lose

what it was your purpose, and what all know it was your purpose to

hold, you suffer a real loss and injury, and, like the Gauls on the

defeat of their champion, you are ruined by a mishap of no moment in

itself.

Philip of Macedon, the father of Perseus, a great soldier in his day,

and of a great name, on being invaded by the Romans, laid waste and

relinquished much of his territory which he thought he could not

defend; rightly judging it more hurtful to his reputation to lose

territory after an attempt to defend it, than to abandon it to the

enemy as something he cared little to retain. So, likewise, after the

battle of Cannæ, when their affairs were at their worst, the Romans

refused aid to many subject and protected States, charging them to

defend themselves as best they could. And this is a better course than

to undertake to defend and then to fail; for by refusing to defend, you

lose only your friend; whereas in failing, you not only lose your

friend, but weaken yourself.

But to return to the matter in hand, I affirm, that even when a captain

is constrained by inexperience of his enemy to make trial of him by

means of skirmishes, he ought first to see that he has so much the

advantage that he runs no risk of defeat; or else, and this is his

better course, he must do as Marius did when sent against the

Cimbrians, a very courageous people who were laying Italy waste, and by

their fierceness and numbers, and from the fact of their having already

routed a Roman army, spreading terror wherever they came. For before

fighting a decisive battle, Marius judged it necessary to do something

to lessen the dread in which these enemies were held by his army; and

being a prudent commander, he, on several occasions, posted his men at

points where the Cimbrians must pass, that seeing and growing familiar

with their appearance, while themselves in safety and within the

shelter of their intrenched camp, and finding them to be a mere

disorderly rabble, encumbered with baggage, and either without weapons,

or with none that were formidable, they might at last assume courage

and grow eager to engage them in battle. The part thus prudently taken

by Marius, should be carefully imitated by others who would escape the

dangers above spoken of and not have to betake themselves like the

Gauls to a disgraceful flight, on sustaining some trifling defeat.

But since in this Discourse I have referred by name to Valerius

Corvinus, in my next Chapter I shall cite his words to show what manner

of man a captain ought to be.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.—_Of the Qualities of a Captain in whom his Soldiers

can confide._

Valerius Corvinus, as I have said already, was sent in command of an

army against the Samnites, who were then new enemies to Rome.

Wherefore, to reassure his soldiers and familiarize them with their

adversaries, he made them engage with them in various unimportant

passages of arms. But not thinking this enough, he resolved before

delivering battle to address his men, and by reminding them of their

valour and his own, to make it plain how little they should esteem such

enemies. And from the words which Titus Livius puts in his mouth we may

gather what manner of man the captain ought to be in whom an army will

put its trust. For he makes him say:—“_Bear ye also this in mind under

whose conduct and auspices you are about to fight, and whether he whom

you are to obey be great only in exhorting, bold only in words, and all

unpractised in arms; or whether he be one who himself knows how to use

his spear, to march before the eagles, and play his part in the

thickest of the fight. Soldiers! I would have you follow my deeds and

not my words, and look to me for example rather than for commands; for

with this right hand I have won for myself three consulships, and an

unsurpassed renown._” Which words rightly understood give every one to

know what he must do to merit a captain’s rank. And if any man obtain

it by other means, he will soon discover that advancement due to chance

or intrigue rather takes away than brings reputation, since it is men

who give lustre to titles and not titles to men.

From what has been said it will likewise be understood that if great

captains when matched against an unfamiliar foe have had to resort to

unusual methods for reassuring the minds even of veteran soldiers, much

more will it be necessary for them to use all their address when in

command of a raw and untried army which has never before looked an

enemy in the face. For if an unfamiliar adversary inspire terror even

in a veteran army, how much greater must be the terror which any army

will inspire in the minds of untrained men. And yet we often find all

these difficulties overcome by the supreme prudence of a great captain

like the Roman Gracchus or the Theban Epaminondas, of whom I have

before spoken, who with untried troops defeated the most practised

veterans. And the method they are said to have followed was to train

their men for some months in mimic warfare, so as to accustom them to

discipline and obedience, after which they employed them with complete

confidence on actual service.

No man, therefore, of warlike genius, need despair of creating a good

army if only he have the men; for the prince who has many subjects and

yet lacks soldiers, has only to thank his own inertness and want of

foresight, and must not complain of the cowardice of his people.

CHAPTER XXXIX.—_That a Captain should have good knowledge of Places._

Among other qualifications essential in a good captain is a knowledge,

both general and particular, of places and countries, for without such

knowledge it is impossible for him to carry out any enterprise in the

best way. And while practice is needed for perfection in every art, in

this it is needed in the highest degree. Such practice, or particular

knowledge as it may be termed, is sooner acquired in the chase than in

any other exercise; and, accordingly, we find it said by ancient

historians that those heroes who, in their day, ruled the world, were

bred in the woods and trained to the chase; for this exercise not

merely gives the knowledge I speak of, but teaches countless other

lessons needful in war. And Xenophon in his life of Cyrus tells us,

that Cyrus, on his expedition against the King of Armenia, when

assigning to each of his followers the part he was to perform, reminded

them that the enterprise on which they were engaged, differed little

from one of those hunting expeditions on which they had gone so often

in his company; likening those who were to lie in ambush in the

mountains, to the men sent to spread the toils on the hill-tops; and

those who were to overrun the plain, to the beaters whose business it

is to start the game from its lair that it may be driven into the

toils. Now, this is related to show how, in the opinion of Xenophon,

the chase is a mimic representation of war, and therefore to be

esteemed by the great as useful and honourable.

Nor can that knowledge of countries which I have spoken of as necessary

in a commander, be obtained in any convenient way except by the chase.

For he who joins therein gains a special acquaintance with the

character of the country in which it is followed; and he who has made

himself specially familiar with one district, will afterwards readily

understand the character of any strange country into which he comes.

For all countries, and the districts of which they are made up, have a

certain resemblance to one another, so that from a knowledge of one we

can pass easily to the knowledge of another. He therefore who is

without such practical acquaintance with some one country, can only

with difficulty, and after a long time, obtain a knowledge of another,

while he who possesses it can take in at a glance how this plain

spreads, how that mountain slopes, whither that valley winds, and all

other like particulars in respect of which he has already acquired a

certain familiarity.

The truth of what I affirm is shown by Titus Livius in the case of

Publius Decius, who, being military tribune in the army which the

consul Cornelius led against the Samnites, when the consul advanced

into a defile where the Roman army were like to be shut in by the

enemy, perceiving the great danger they ran, and noting, as Livius

relates, a hill which rose by a steep ascent and overhung the enemy’s

camp, and which, though hard of access for heavy-armed troops,

presented little difficulty to troops lightly armed, turned to the

consul and said:—“_Seest thou, Aulus Cornelius, yonder height over

above the enemy, which they have been blind enough to neglect? There,

were we manfully to seize it, might we find the citadel of our hopes

and of our safety._” Whereupon, he was sent by the consul with three

thousand men to secure the height, and so saved the Roman army. And as

it was part of his plan to make his own escape and carry off his men

safely under shelter of night, Livius represents him as saying to his

soldiers:—“_Come with me, that, while daylight still serves, we may

learn where the enemy have posted their guards, and by what exit we may

issue hence._” Accordingly, putting on the cloak of a common soldier,

lest the enemy should observe that an officer was making his rounds he

surveyed their camp in all directions.

Now any one who carefully studies the whole of this passage, must

perceive how useful and necessary it is for a captain to know the

nature of places, which knowledge had Decius not possessed he could not

have decided that it would be for the advantage of the Roman army to

occupy this hill; nor could he have judged from a distance whether the

hill was accessible or no; and when he reached the summit and desired

to return to the consul, since he was surrounded on all sides by the

enemy, he never could have distinguished the path it was safe for him

to take, from those guarded by the foe. For all which reasons it was

absolutely essential that Decius should have that thorough knowledge

which enabled him by gaining possession of this hill to save the Roman

army, and to discover a path whereby, in the event of his being

attacked, he and his followers might escape.

CHAPTER XL.—_That Fraud is fair in War._

Although in all other affairs it be hateful to use fraud, in the

operations of war it is praiseworthy and glorious; so that he who gets

the better of his enemy by fraud, is as much extolled as he who

prevails by force. This appears in the judgments passed by such as have

written of the lives of great warriors, who praise Hannibal and those

other captains who have been most noted for acting in this way. But

since we may read of many instances of such frauds, I shall not cite

them here. This, however, I desire to say, that I would not have it

understood that any fraud is glorious which leads you to break your

plighted word, or to depart from covenants to which you have agreed;

for though to do so may sometimes gain you territory and power, it can

never, as I have said elsewhere, gain you glory.

The fraud, then, which I here speak of is that employed against an

enemy who places no trust in you, and is wholly directed to military

operations, such as the stratagem of Hannibal at the Lake of

Thrasymene, when he feigned flight in order to draw the Roman consul

and his army into an ambuscade; or when to escape from the hands of

Fabius Maximus he fastened lights to the horns of his oxen. Similar to

the above was the deceit practised by Pontius the Samnite commander to

inveigle the Roman army into the Caudine Forks. For after he had drawn

up his forces behind the hills, he sent out a number of his soldiers,

disguised as herdsmen, to drive great herds of cattle across the plain;

who being captured by the Romans, and interrogated as to where the

Samnite army was, all of them, as they had been taught by Pontius,

agreed in saying that it had gone to besiege Nocera: which being

believed by the consuls, led them to advance within the Caudine Valley,

where no sooner were they come than they were beset by the Samnites.

And the victory thus won by a fraud would have been most glorious for

Pontius had he but taken the advice of his father Herennius, who urged

that the Romans should either be set at liberty unconditionally, or all

be put to death; but that a mean course “_which neither gains friends

nor gets rid of foes_” should be avoided. And this was sound advice,

for, as has already been shown, in affairs of moment a mean course is

always hurtful.

CHAPTER XLI.—_That our Country is to be defended by Honour or by

Dishonour; and in either way is well defended._

The consuls together with the whole Roman army fell, as I have related,

into the hands of the Samnites, who imposed on them the most

ignominious terms, insisting that they should be stripped of their

arms, and pass under the yoke before they were allowed to return to

Rome. The consuls being astounded by the harshness of these conditions

and the whole army overwhelmed with dismay, Lucius Lentulus, the Roman

lieutenant, stood forward and said, that in his opinion they ought to

decline no course whereby their country might be saved; and that as the

very existence of Rome depended on the preservation of her army, that

army must be saved at any sacrifice, for whether the means be

honourable or ignominious, all is well done that is done for the

defence of our country. And he said that were her army preserved, Rome,

in course of time, might wipe out the disgrace; but if her army were

destroyed, however gloriously it might perish, Rome and her freedom

would perish with it. In the event his counsel was followed.

Now this incident deserves to be noted and pondered over by every

citizen who is called on to advise his country; for when the entire

safety of our country is at stake, no consideration of what is just or

unjust, merciful or cruel, praiseworthy or shameful, must intervene. On

the contrary, every other consideration being set aside, that course

alone must be taken which preserves the existence of the country and

maintains its liberty. And this course we find followed by the people

of France, both in their words and in their actions, with the view of

supporting the dignity of their king and the integrity of their

kingdom; for there is no remark they listen to with more impatience

than that this or the other course is disgraceful to the king. For

their king, they say, can incur no disgrace by any resolve he may take,

whether it turn out well or ill; and whether it succeed or fail, all

maintain that he has acted as a king should.

CHAPTER XLII.—_That Promises made on Compulsion are not to be

observed._

When, after being subjected to this disgrace, the consuls returned to

Rome with their disarmed legions, Spurius Posthumius, himself one of

the consuls, was the first to contend in the senate that the terms made

in the Caudine Valley were not to be observed. For he argued that the

Roman people were not bound by them, though he himself doubtless was,

together with all the others who had promised peace; wherefore, if the

people desired to set themselves free from every engagement, he and all

the rest who had given this promise must be made over as prisoners into

the hands of the Samnites. And so steadfastly did he hold to this

opinion, that the senate were content to adopt it, and sending him and

the rest as prisoners back to Samnium, protested to the Samnites that

the peace was not binding. And so kind was Fortune to Posthumius on

this occasion, that the Samnites would not keep him as a prisoner, and

that on his return to Rome, notwithstanding his defeat, he was held in

higher honour by the Romans than the victorious Pontius by his

countrymen.

Here two points are to be noted; first, that glory may be won by any

action; for although, commonly, it follow upon victory, it may also

follow on defeat, if this defeat be seen to have happened through no

fault of yours, or if, directly after, you perform some valiant action

which cancels it. The other point to be noted is that there is no

disgrace in not observing promises wrung from you by force; for

promises thus extorted when they affect the public welfare will always

be broken so soon as the pressure under which they were made is

withdrawn, and that, too, without shame on the part of him who breaks

them; of which we read many instances in history, and find them

constantly occurring at the present day. Nay, as between princes, not

only are such compulsory promises broken when the force which extorted

them is removed, but all other promises as well, are in like manner

disregarded when the causes which led to them no longer operate.

Whether this is a thing to be commended or no, and whether such methods

ought or ought not to be followed by princes, has already been

considered by me in my “_Treatise of the Prince_” wherefore I say no

Here, then, we see what honour was paid in Rome to poverty, and how