In Rome, it had been customary to bore a well where water was wanted,

but the water was so impure, that it soon became necessary to let well

alone. The science of engineering, aided by that great moral engine,

their own energy, enabled the inhabitants to bring their supplies from a

considerable distance, and as the aqueducts were gradually sloped, the

water followed, as it were, its own inclination in coming to Rome.

Filtration was ingeniously provided for, at convenient distances, by

reservoirs having two compartments, into one of which the water fell,

and passing into the other before returning to the main body, there was

time for the deposit of all impurities. Every precaution was taken

against the intrusion of those unhappy families of animalculæ, which are

continually tearing each other to pieces in every drop of the London

element, and whose voracity seems to hold out a faint hope that, as they

are continually demolishing each other, they may be all mutually

swallowed, before the supply of the Metropolis with pure water is

achieved.

During the Censorship of Appius Claudius, the cause of literature, or at

least the dignity of the profession of a public writer, was

advanced--though, perhaps, we ought rather to say, that official

employment was honoured--by the promotion of Cn. Flavius, a scribe, to

the Curule Ædileship. This individual appears to have possessed the

happy gift of investing dry subjects with the garb of popularity; and he

had won considerable reputation by giving the forms of legal actions in

a shape that rendered them comprehensible to the general reader. He made

law legible in his work on _legis actiones_, and had assisted the spread

of information by an almanack or calendar, in which the _dies fasti_ and

_nefasti_ were marked down, and other information afforded which could

only have been obtained previously from the pontiffs.

The lawyers and the priests, who were less liberal in those days than in

our own, were both enraged with an author who had laid open the

mysteries of both professions by a few happy touches of his pen; and on

his being called upon to give the public the benefit of his services as

a curule ædile, they appealed to the miserable prejudice existing

against a man who had shown talent in one line, when called upon to

exert his abilities in some new direction. The nobility were especially

affected at the prospect of the public service being thrown open to

merit alone, instead of gentle or gentile dulness being allowed the sole

use and abuse of official honour and emolument. Exclusiveness and

illiberality could not, even in those days, wholly prevail, though the

opponents of the public writer succeeded in causing him to abandon not

only his literary pursuits, but to give up all his books, and thus

render himself emblematically on a par with themselves in ignorance, by

divesting himself of the types of knowledge on his acceptance of office.

At about the same period other and more important measures were adopted

for infusing into the service of the State some of that intellectual

vigour which is to be found most abundantly in the main body of the

people. The pontiffs and the augurs had been hitherto chosen from the

patricians alone, when by the Ogulnian law, passed in the tribuneship of

Q. and Cn. Ogulnius, it was enacted that four pontiffs out of eight, and

five augurs out of nine--at which the numbers were then fixed--should be

plebeians. The science of augury certainly required no particular

talent; but, as its professors were held in very high repute, the

introduction of the plebeian element into the body, was a triumph for

popular principles. The divining rod in an age of superstition was also

a very powerful rod in the hands of those who held it; and the privilege

of reading or rather interpreting the signs of the times according to

the wish of the interpreter, was a source of so much influence among a

people guided by omens, that the admission of the plebeians to the

exercise of these functions was equivalent to allowing them an important

share in the government.

The science of augury is intimately connected with the history of the

Romans, for they never took a step of a private or a public nature

without consulting the soothsayers, who were, in fact, the

fortune-tellers of antiquity. That a nation should place its destinies

in such doubtful hands, seems in the present day as absurd as if the

Prime Minister, before arranging his measures for a session, were to

take counsel with Dr. Francis Moore, and the Opposition were to frame

their tactics on the advice of Zadkiel. A glimpse at the nature of the

art of augury will demonstrate to the student the ease with which the

seer could see exactly the thing he wanted. The subjects of his

observation were, first, the clouds, which afforded ample opportunity

for obscurity; secondly, the birds, which, when seen to the right, meant

exactly opposite to that which they indicated when seen on the

left--thus allowing for a good deal to be said on both sides; thirdly,

the chickens, who were supposed to give a favourable omen if they ate

abundantly--a theory which gave rise to many a tremendous cram;

fourthly, the quadrupeds, from which the augurs could easily draw a

deduction at all fours with their own wishes; and, fifthly, and last, a

miscellaneous class of signs, or incidents, comprising a sneeze, which

enabled the augur to lead the sneezer by the nose, or a casualty, such

as a tumble, which, in the absence of any other more important sign, the

soothsayer was always willing to fall back upon.

A remarkable instance of ignorance and superstition was afforded by the

conduct of the Romans, when the city, being in about its four hundred

and sixtieth year, was visited by a pestilence. Recourse was had to the

Sibylline books for a prescription to get rid of the plague, when the

augurs, like a doctor who, unable to cure his patient, orders him

abroad, declared that the only thing to be done was to go to Epidaurus,

a town in Greece, and bring to Rome the god Æsculapius. Ten ambassadors

were despatched on the mission; but after looking in all directions for

Æsculapius, they happened to stumble over a stone, in which they were

told he was resident. Having been induced to purchase the article at a

high price, they were taking it on board their ship, when they fell in

with the proprietor of a small menagerie, who, directing their attention

to a tame snake in the collection, offered it to them a bargain as the

identical Æsculapius they were looking for. The Roman envoys, thinking

there might, after all, be nothing in the stone, concluded there might

be something in the snake, which began to twine itself affectionately

about them; and having been bought and paid for, sagaciously glided

through the town, made for the Roman vessel, and coiled himself up like

a coil of rope in the cabin of the ambassadors.

On their way home, a storm caused them to put in at Antium, when the

snake, who might have been a very good snake, but was a very bad sailor,

went ashore, took a turn or two round a palm-tree, hung out there for

three days, and then went back to the vessel. On the arrival of the

ambassadors at Rome, they began describing at some length the result of

their journey, when the snake gave them the slip, and while their

tongues were running on, managed to run off to the island in the Tiber.

Having looked in vain for the snake in the grass, they built a temple on

the spot, in honour of Æsculapius, and the serpent glided on--no one

knows where--to the end of his existence.

The wars which had been so exhausting to the almost inexhaustible

Sabines, had been scarcely less ruinous to the Romans, and indeed the

opening up of so many bones of contention had, to use the words of a

recent writer, consumed "the very marrow of the nation."[34] In spite of

all their conquests, the people were miserably poor; for destruction,

instead of production, had been their occupation during a series of

years; and though their wants had been supplied for a time by plunder,

scarcity was sure to ensue at last, from a stoppage of the very source

of all wealth, the peaceful exercise of industry. The tide of adversity

which, in the first instance, overwhelms only the lower ranks, rises,

with unerring certainty, until even the highest are absorbed, and few

are able, in the end, to keep their heads above water. When

circumstances appear hopeless, remedies become desperate, rash

legislation ensues, and thus, during the distresses of Rome, the plebs

having seceded, a proposal was adopted, in the shape of the Hortensian

Law, to allow them to do just as they liked, in order to tempt them back

again.

[Illustration: The Ambassadors purchasing Æsculapius.]

This was, happily, the last secession of the plebs, who, in their

dignified withdrawal, remained completely within the pale of the law,

while passing beyond the gates of the city. The intention of the

seceders was to get on as they could without the patrician class,

leaving the latter to do their best by themselves--a proceeding that had

speedily the effect of showing that there is a mutual dependence between

all ranks, and that one cannot exist in comfort without the association

and support of the other. In Rome, the patricians had played the

dangerous game of exercising the rights of their position without

fulfilling its duties; and the plebeians finding themselves deprived of

their share of the profits of the connection, were quite justified in

cutting it. After the passing of the Hortensian Law, the invidious

distinction between the patricians and the people was at an end, and the

word _populus_ was applied to the whole body of citizens; but with the

natural tendency of all classes to level only down to themselves, the

Romans who were well to do in the world continued to use the term

_plebs_, or _plebecula_, in a depreciatory sense, to denote the

multitude.

It is true, that some works of great utility were accomplished during

the unhappy period to which we have been alluding; and the aqueduct as

well as the Via Appia, to both of which we have already referred, were

executed at the time stated. Instead, however, of being the result of

the free industry of the nation, these undertakings were extorted

chiefly from the labour of the Samnite prisoners; so that the Romans may

be said to have watered their city with the tears, and paved their road

with the sighs,[35] of their miserable captives. The arts made

considerable progress, notwithstanding the general poverty, and perhaps

the fact, that necessity is the mother of invention, may account for the

stimulus given to the skill and ingenuity of the nation. The still

existing figure, in which two bronze babies are represented in an

attitude of playful satisfaction, deriving sustenance from a bronze

wolf, who looks as easy as the hardness of the material will allow, has

been assigned to the age alluded to, and the Sarcophagus of Scipio

Barbatus, complete even to the ancient funeral verse, which the

irreverent might estimate at the value of an old song, belongs,

probably, to the same period.

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[33] The Croton Aqueduct, commenced in 1837, and finished in 1842, for

conveying water from the river Croton to the City of New York.

[34] Dr. Schmidtz, p. 223

[35] The sigh of a pavier is really a very formidable matter. We always

fancy the heart of the poor fellow is in his mouth, whenever we hear him

at his labours.

CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.

FROM THE END OF THE THIRD SAMNITE WAR TO THE SUBJUGATION OF ALL ITALY BY

THE ROMANS.

[Illustration]

Rome was for a time at rest; but its repose was broken by the alarm-bell

of war still ringing in its ears, while dissension, hanging over it like

a nightmare, placed a weight upon its chest, and became a constant

burden on its resources. As if the Romans had not enough troubles of

their own, they became involved with the disputes of their foreign

relations, who were, most of them, very poor relations indeed--a sort of

connexion which nations, as well as individuals, are apt to find

extremely burdensome.

A number of petty states began urging each other to do something that

would embarrass Rome, and many who had not the courage to strike were

desirous of seeing others display their valour. The Tarentines and the

Volsinians being anxious to fight their own battles with other people's

arms, succeeded in making cats'-paws of the Gauls, who were induced to

pounce upon Arretium. The Romans were appealed to for assistance, and

they immediately sent an army just large enough to be too little. Defeat

ensued, as a matter of course; and L. Cæcilius, the leader, being slain,

M. Curius was despatched to head the troops; but on his arrival, he

found there was no body to which he could serve as a head, for the army

had been either killed or captured.

In this disagreeable dilemma, he sent ambassadors to know the terms on

which the prisoners would be given up; but the ambassadors--like good

money sent after bad--never came back again. The Romans perceiving at

last that they were only cutting their army into convenient pieces for

the enemy to swallow up, despatched, at length, a force large enough to

put a stop to any further consumption of such valuable material. The

Romans were now decidedly successful, and the Senones were, according to

certain authorities, "just annihilated;"[36] but as the Senones are

frequently met with again, it must be presumed that the assertion, _ex

nihilo nihil fit_--"nothing can come of nothing"--is unacknowledged by

the writers of classical history.

Foreign intervention seems to have been quite the order of the day; for

the Boians rushed forward to show their sympathy at the fate of the

Senones, which, if it consisted of annihilation, must have been nothing

to the parties themselves, and should have been, _à fortiori_, nothing

to others. Touched with a similar infection, the Etrurians began to

sympathise with the Boians, and having met the Romans near Lake Vadimo,

the sympathisers were "cut to pieces," if we are to believe report; but

we know not whether to the scissors of the reporters or the shears of

fate, the cutting to pieces in question may be attributed. The

Etruscans, at all events, were able to return to Etruria[37] in

sufficient force to render them a still formidable foe to the Romans,

who were eventually glad to grant a peace on very favourable terms; and,

putting all things together, we are inclined to believe that the

Etruscans were not in that very piecemeal state to which tradition is

fond of reducing them.

A quarrel between the Lucanians and the Thurii caused another call on

the intervention of Rome, who was a thorough polygamist in espousing the

quarrels of others. C. Fabricius was sent to the relief of Thurii with

an army so small, that it began to shrink from the encounter, and thus

increase, as it were, its own littleness. The spirit of the Romans had

something, however, of the caoutchouc in its composition; for it could

be drawn out as easily as it gave in, and a trifling circumstance showed

its elasticity on the occasion of the attack on Thurii. A gigantic lad,

with a ladder in his hand, was seen approaching the ramparts, which he

proceeded to mount, and by this simple act of scaling the wall, he

turned the scale of victory.

The opposing general was taken prisoner, and numbers were left dead on

the field, including several of the Samnites, who in devoting themselves

to glut the appetite of war, appear to have formed the great _pièce de

résistance_ of the period. The feast of carnage seems never to have been

complete in these days, without this very substantial dish, which seems

to have formed literally an instance of "cut and come again," for we

find a supply of Samnites always ready for fate's relentless

carving-knife. The treasure taken by Fabricius, the Roman general, was

immense, and much of it was derived from the inexhaustible Samnites,

who, though constantly being cut up like the goose with the golden eggs,

possessed one extraordinary advantage over that auriferous bird, for

they could bear the operation as often as avarice itself could require.

The booty was wonderful in amount; but the mode in which it was disposed

of, was more marvellous still; for the general, instead of following the

general custom, by pocketing all he could, distributed a large portion

of it among the soldiers, reimbursed the amount of a year's taxes to the

citizens, and sent a handsome surplus to the treasury. It is to be

regretted that we have no such examples of justice and generosity in the

present age; for if every man were to return as conscience money to the

Exchequer all that he did not fairly earn, the National Debt might soon

figure--without any figures at all--as a myth in our financial annals.

Thurii received a small Roman garrison, which not being strong enough to

defend itself, was _à fortiori_, or rather _ab impotentiori_, too weak

to protect those for whose safety it had been appointed. Rome,

therefore, despatched ten ships to its aid, in defiance of a treaty with

Tarentum, that no armed vessel should proceed beyond a certain point.

The people of Tarentum, who happened to be at the theatre, which

commanded a view of the sea, and who were evidently looking at the ocean

as a much finer spectacle than the play, observed the approach of the

ships, and leaving the actors to finish their performance to empty

benches, they rushed out to meet the enemy. The commander of the

squadron was not prepared for an audience that would hear nothing he had

to say, the sailors were alarmed at finding themselves suddenly

assailed, and the poor rowers were completely overawed at their

unexpected position. Only five ships escaped, the remainder being sunk

or captured, with all their crews and cargoes. The Tarentines fell upon

Thurii, whose cause was now completely undefended; but the Roman

garrison, instead of being despatched by the sword, was generously

despatched home by the earliest means of conveyance.

The Romans, having lost a considerable number of men, thought it better

to recruit themselves by peace, as they were unable to find recruits for

their army. It was accordingly determined to try the effect of an

embassy upon the Tarentines, and some Feciales were employed to

propose--what Rome considered--very moderate terms of arrangement. L.

Postumius is said to have been one of the envoys, and it is added that

upon his commencing a speech in bad Greek, there was a burst of laughter

at his mistakes in grammar, orthography, and accent. He had been

selected for the charm of his eloquence, but the spell was broken by the

spelling, and in the confusion of his nominatives and datives, he was

unable to make out a case of any kind. The Senators gave way to bursts

of laughter--those bursts of nature which it is often difficult to

control--and a buffoon, encouraged by the bad example of his betters,

played some practical joke upon L. Postumius. The insulted emissary

immediately held up his toga, which had been soiled by the jester, whose

wit seems to have consisted in throwing dirt; but a shout of laughter

was the only reply that the complaint of Postumius elicited. Desiring

them to laugh on, he made an allusion to the possibility of the

operation being transferred to the other side of the Roman mouth, and he

added that a lavatory supplied by their blood was the only wash to which

he would send his toga. Returning to Rome, he pointed out the stain that

had been thrown upon him, and the Senate declared war on the spot the

moment the spot was exhibited. An army was accordingly sent against

Tarentum, but the leader, L. Aemilius Barbula,--so called probably from

his being the little-bearded or the downy one--offered peace a second

time. The Tarentines, thinking the Romans were afraid of fighting,

refused to come to terms; but seeing that the latter did not retire, it

became necessary to seek assistance in meeting them.

It appears that in these early days there were a set of persons willing

to undertake butchery as a trade, by hiring themselves, or rather

lowering themselves, to fight for any one who would pay them. Among

these, one of the most respectable was Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, whom we

may almost regard as a professional spiller of blood, for he took care

to turn his labours to a profitable account, by bleeding those on whose

side he fought, as well as those he fought against. According to some

writers, Pyrrhus was no mercenary, because in agreeing to lend his arms

to the Tarentines, he had in view a kingdom, rather than cash, or, in

other words, he did not propose to be paid by those whom he assisted,

because he intended to appropriate to himself everything out of which

they would have the means of paying him. Pyrrhus, in fact, can only be

excluded from the order of mercenaries by transferring him to the

catalogue of thieves, and of this arrangement we have no objection to

give him the benefit.

Though he lived in an age when the education of sovereigns was sadly

neglected, he possessed a fair amount of information, and he had the

fortunate habit of listening to good advice, so that he got credit for

being wise on the strength of the wisdom of his counsellors. His tongue

was no less polished than his sword, and his manners would have fully

justified their being charged as extras in the bill of any school in

which they may have been acquired. He was only thirty-seven years old

when he entered Italy with a stud, including no less than twenty

elephants and two thousand horses, though he was, of course, the

principal lion of his great travelling menagerie. He was accompanied by

a vast number of slingers, whose arms were in their slings, and a large

body of bowmen, who could draw the longest bow with a truthfulness quite

astonishing. An incident connected with the invocation of the aid of

Pyrrhus by the Tarentines has come down to us by tradition, that common

carrier who lays much at the historian's door, that he is not always

inclined to answer for. It is said that a respectable young nobleman, of

the name of Meto, appeared one day in the Tarentine senate with a

quantity of faded flowers in his hair, as if he had just come home late

from a dinner party, and had passed on his way through one of the

markets. Being attended by a female with a pipe, the Tarentines were

seized with a sudden desire to cheer, a propensity still evinced by a

modern mob in the presence of any absurdity.

[Illustration: _Pyrrhus arrives in Italy with his Troupe._]

[Illustration: Appearance in the Senate of a young Nobleman, named

Meto.]

The Comic History of Rome · 第 14 / 33 段