CHAPTER XII.

THE SWORD IN ANCIENT ROME; THE LEGION AND THE GLADIATOR.

The _rôle_ played by pagan Rome on the stage of history was

twofold—that of conqueror and that of regulator. In obeying man’s

acquisitive instinct she was compelled to perfect her executive

instrument, the fighter. To her we owe the words ‘arms’ and ‘army,’

‘armour’ and ‘armoury.’[853] As _pugna_ derives from _pugnus_, the

fist, so _arma_ and its congeners derive from _armus_, the arm:

‘antiqui humeros cum brachiis armos vocabant,’ says Festus. Well

knowing that the ‘God of Battles’ favours superiority of weapons as

much as, and in select cases more than, ‘big battalions,’ she ever

chose the implements and instruments she found the best; and, following

her own proverb, she never disdained to take a lesson in arms even from

the conquered.

But Rome soon learnt that to make good soldiers she must begin by

making good citizens. She insisted upon the civilising maxim ‘Cedant

arma togæ,’ without, however, the invidious precedence which Sallust

calls ‘those most offensive words of Cicero’

——Concedat laurea linguæ.

She subordinated the Captain to the Magistrate, and she proclaimed to

both the absolute Reign of Law. The idea presented itself to the Greek

mind in the shape of Fate, Anagké, Nemesis: Rome brought it down from

the vague to the realistic, from the abstract to the concrete, from

heaven to earth. Thus, while Greece taught mankind the novel lessons

of ordered liberty, free thought, intellectual culture, and patriotic

citizenship, Rome, by her reverence for Law, in whose sight all men

were equal, preached the brotherhood of mankind. Hence Christendom

ever has been, and is still, governed by a heathen code, by that Roman

jurisprudence which flowed from the Twelve Tables, like the laws of

Jewry from the Ten Commandments. Indeed the ‘Fecial College’ which

pronounced upon the obligations of international war and peace, is an

institution which might profitably be revived in the modern world.[854]

Rome was single-minded in her objective, conquest; and unlike the

Greeks, from whom she borrowed, she was not diverted by art or

literature. All her poets for a thousand years fit into one volume.

All her art, indeed, can hardly be said to exist; history is silent

concerning any save a few exceptional Roman architects. Varro laughs

at the puppets and effigies of the gods. The triumph of Metellus

(B.C. 146) introduced Art, but the Helleno-Roman artist contented

himself with copies and with portrait-statues of the great. In the

days of their highest luxury and refinement, the toga’d people

were connoisseurs and purchasers who diffused instead of adding to

knowledge. Others, as Virgil said, might give movement to marble and

breath to bronze: the Art of the Roman was to rule the nations, to

spare the subjected, and to debase the proud. ‘Fortia agere Romanum

est.’

For the constitution of the Roman army we must consult the estimable

Polybius,[855] its early historian, Livy, and the latest of the great

authorities, Vegetius, in the days of Valentinian II. (A.D. 375–92);

not forgetting Varro,[856] who treats of weapon changings.

Whilst the militia consisted of three bodies, the citizens, the allies,

who were sworn, and the auxiliaries or mercenaries; the characteristic

of Roman organisation was the Legion—that is, _legere_ (they chose).

Emerging by slow degrees from the Phalanx or close column,[857] it

learnt to prefer for battle the _acies instructa_, haye or line, and

the _acies sinuata_, with wings; and it reserved for especial purposes

the _agmen pilatum_ or close array, and the _agmen quadratum_ or hollow

square.

The reason of the change is manifest. The Phalanx or oblong herse was

irresistible during the compact advance. The wise Egyptian inventors

made it perfect for the Nile Valley. But it lost virtue in woodlands

and highlands; it was liable to be broken when changing front, and

the long unwieldy spears which it required caused confusion on broken

ground.

The Legion consisted, strictly speaking, of heavy-armed infantry—of

Milites, from _Mil-es_, because reckoned by their thousands. They were

preceded by the Velites, Ferentarii, or Rorarii, ‘light infantry,’

_éclaireurs_, who cleared the way for action; in the first century they

were reinforced by the Accensi Velati.[858] Whilst the Auxiliaries

fought with bows and arrows, and some, like the Etruscans, with the

‘funda’ or sling, the Veles carried two to seven light throw-spears

(_hastæ velitariæ_) about three feet long in the shaft, with a

nine-inch lozenge-shaped head of iron.[859] For close quarters he

wore on his right side a Parazonium-dagger, and on the right a broad

cut-and-thrust blade of moderate size. His defences were an apron of

leather strips, studded with metal; and a Parma,[860] the small round

shield, like the Cetra, some three feet in diameter.[861]

[Illustration: FIG. 270.]

[Illustration: FIG. 271.—1, 2. HELMETS OF HASTARII (FROM TRAJAN’S

COLUMN); 3, 4. HELMETS OF HASTARII; 5. BRONZE HELMET (FROM CANNÆ).]

The Legion proper was a line or rather a triple line of Hastarii[862]

or legionary spearmen. Livy[863] briefly describes the Acies, when

it emerged from the Phalanx, as ‘drawn up into distinct companies,

divided into centuries. Each company contained sixty soldiers,[864]

two centurions, and one ensign or standard-bearer.[865] First in line

stood the Hastati in fifteen companies with twenty Velites.[866]

Behind them were the Principes with heavy shields and complete armour,

also numbering fifteen companies. These thirty companies were called

Antepilani, because there were fifteen others placed behind them

with the standards; each of the latter consisted of three divisions,

and the first division of each they called a Pilus. The first ensign

was at the head of the third line proper, the Triarii. Behind them

stood the Rorarii, whose ability was less by reason of their youth

and inexperience; and, lastly, in the rear, came the Accensi, a body

in which little confidence was reposed. The Hastati began the fight,

and if unable to gain the day, passed to the rear through the ranks

of the Principes. The latter now marched forwards to action, the

Hastati following. Meanwhile the Triarii continued kneeling behind

the Ensigns; the left legs extended to the front, the shields resting

on the shoulders; the spear-points erect with butts firmly fixed in

the ground, so that the line bristled as if inclosed by a rampart. If

the Principes failed, “res ad Triarios rediit.” The Triarii, after

receiving the Principes and Hastati into their intervals, closed files

and fell upon the enemy in a compact body.[867] This was the most

formidable attack, when the enemy, having pursued the vanquished,

suddenly beheld a new line starting up.’

[Illustration: FIG. 272.—HASTATUS (FROM TRAJAN’S COLUMN).]

Thus far Livy. I am tempted by the subject of the Roman legionaries,

those ‘massive hammers of the whole earth,’ to add, despite its

triteness, a few details.

The Hastatus or spearman, a young light-armed soldier, preceded the

colours; hence he was called Antesignanus. He wore for defence a plain

or crested helmet which varied with his legion.[868] He had a bronze

breast-plate thirty-two inches long, or a cuirass of thin metal plates

defending the chest and forming shoulder-pieces. A kilt[869] of the

same material protected his lower body; greaves or leggings (_ocreæ_)

his legs, and the Scutum or shield his flank. This article (σκῦτος,

leather, dog-skin?), a curved rectangular oblong, larger than the

Parma, measured about four feet by two and a half feet; the framework

was of wood, and the covering had a strong boss and metal platings. As

his name denotes, the Hastatus was armed with the full-sized spear, and

with a long or short ‘gladius’ or ‘ensis.’ The latter was carried on

the right, as a rule; as will be seen, it greatly varied in size and

shape. The soldier, when excited in battle, threw away his spear and

drew his Sword; the Etruscans did the same.[870] The shield-umbo was

also used in close combat to bear down the opponent.

[Illustration: FIG. 273.—CENTURION’S CUIRASS, WITH PHALERÆ OR

DECORATIONS.]

The second line, which like the third followed the standards, was

composed of the Principes or Proci, soldiers of mature age. The name

seems to denote that originally they formed the front line, as the

Greek Promachoi and our Grenadiers.[871] Lastly came the Triarii (third

line men), a reserve, so called from their position—veterans of tried

valour who were expected to retrieve the fortunes of the day. At first

they were the only Pilani[872] (javelineers), as opposed to the two

first lines (Antepilani). Their redoubtable weapon, which conquered

so much of the old world, and which descended by inheritance to the

Franks, was about six feet and three-quarters long, composed of an

iron (two feet) with oval or pyramidal head, set by a broad tang in a

wooden socketed shaft treble its length. The latter was round at the

heel and squared about the shoulders, as we learn from Livy,[873] when

describing the Phalarica or fire-missile. Both Principes and Triarii

also carried Swords, the former at the right hip, the latter above

it: as has before been noticed this is a most complicated subject.

The bandsmen wore, like the Signa-bearers, a peculiar helmet; they

consisted of tubicines (using the _tuba_, a long Etruscan trumpet), of

cornicines (the _cornu_ being a writhed horn), and of buccinatores,

blowing a short simple instrument. The Roman officers were armed like

the men.

Under the term _utraque militia_ was included the legionary cavalry

whose number varied little in proportion to the infantry. In

Polybius’ day the ratio was two hundred to four thousand. This arm

was clad in a complete suit of bronze less heavy than the Greeks

and the Gallo-Greeks;[874] the buckler of ox-hide was round, oval,

or polygonal. The horseman’s weapons were a Spear (_contus_), often

accompanied by a javelin, a waist-dagger, and a Sword worn on the

right; the latter, unlike ours, preserved the form of the infantry

weapon. The Greek cavalry in the Roman service at the siege of

Jerusalem, as we learn from Josephus, carried long Swords suspended to

the right flank.

Lastly, the Legion was followed by its massive _tormenta_ (artillery):

catapults (for darts) and _balistæ_ (for stones), escorted by the

_vexillarii_ or oldest soldiers, under their own _vexillum_, and

worked by the Sappers or _fabri_ (_lignarii_, &c.). The camp-followers

(_calones_, _lixæ_) and the baggage (_impedimenta_) brought up the rear.

The Roman infantry was carefully drilled. Vegetius tells us that

recruits were exercised with osier-bucklers and stakes double the

weight of the normal Swords. There were also regular _champs de Mars_,

‘sham-fights’ with wooden Swords and with javelins whose points were

sheathed in balls.

In the effeminate days of the Empire, shortly after Constantine,

military discipline was relaxed, and the decay of the Legion became

complete. Instead of shouldering their packs the men carried them in

carts. The Hasta was given up, and the helmet and the cuirass were

dispensed with as too heavy. Vegetius[875] had reason to ascribe the

defeat of the Legion by the Goths to the want of its old defensive

armour.

It was not only when campaigning that the Romans studied the use of

arms. In the Campus Martius and the other seven ‘parks’ of the Capital,

crowds of young men practised riding, swording, and athletics. Another

mighty _Salle d’Armes_ was the Amphitheatre. To a purely military

nation, gladiatorism had great merits. ‘C’estoit, à la verité,’ says

Montaigne,[876] ‘un merveilleux exemple, et de tresgrand fruict pour

l’institution du peuple, de veoir touts les jours en sa presence

cent, deux cents, voire mille couples d’hommes, armez les uns contre

les aultres, se hacher en pieces, avecques une si extreme fermeté

de courage, qu’on ne leur voit lascher une parole de foiblesse ou

commiseration, jamais tourner le dos, ny faire seulement un mouvement

lasche pour gauchir au coup de leur adversaire, ains tendre le col à

son espee, et se presenter au coup.’

It appears to me that the nineteenth century wastes much fine sentiment

upon the ‘detestable savagery of the Lanista,’[877] and upon the

wretches

Butchered to make a Roman holiday.

The _ludus gladiatorius_[878] began as a humane institution amongst the

Etruscans, who, instead of slaughtering, upon the funeral pyre, slaves

and war-captives, like Achilles and Pyrrhus, allowed them to fight for

their lives. The _munus_ at Rome, moreover, was originally confined

to public funerals, and it was an abuse which allowed it at private

interments, at entertainments, and at holiday festivals in general.

According to Livy[879] ‘when Scipio exhibited gladiators at Carthage’

(B.C. 546) ‘they were not slaves or men who sold their blood, the

usual stuff of the Lanista’s school.’[880] The service was voluntary

and gratuitous. Combatants were often sent by petty princes to show

the courage of their people; others came forward in compliment to the

General, and some decided their disputes by the Sword. Amongst persons

of distinction were Corbis and Orsua, cousins-german, who determined

to fight out their claims to the city called Ibes, and they ‘exhibited

to the army a most interesting spectacle,’ the elder swordsman easily

mastering the artless attacks of the younger.

[Heading: _THE ROMAN GLADIATOR._]

Even when the gladiators at Rome were condemned criminals and captives

whose lives were forfeited by the old laws of war, some humanity

remained. Although the malefactors doomed _ad gladium_ were to be

slain within the year, those sent only _ad ludum_ might obtain their

discharge within three years. And under the Empire to join the shows

became ‘fashionable:’ Severus was compelled to forbid freeborn

citizens, knights, senators, and even women from entering the arena.

The life of the gladiator was one to make the ‘honest poor’ curse

their lot. He was trained in the best climates, and fed with the most

succulent food (_sagina gladiatoria_): hence Cicero[881] calls rude

health and good condition ‘gladiatoria totius corporis firmitas.’ He

became one of a _familia_ or brotherhood after taking the oath, which

Montaigne gives from Petronius (117):—‘Nous jurons de nous laisser

enchainer, brusler, battre et tuer de glaive, et de souffrir tout ce

que les gladiateurs légitimes souffrent de leur maîtres, engageant

très-religieusement le corps et l’âme à son service.’ In other words,

he had plenty of society and he was disciplined. Under the Lanista he

practised daily at the schools, and the _ludus matutinus_ near the

Cœliolus or little Cœlian Hill was frequented by all classes.[882]

Here he ‘fought the air’ (ἀέρα δέρειν), a Σκιαμαχία like our fighting

the sack; he contended with the _rudis_ (rod or wooden Sword); he cut

at the Palus, the ‘post-practice’ of German universities and modern

regiments, and he strengthened back and shoulders with the Halteres

(dumb-bells, _dombelles_), and with other artifices. Thus a wound,

fatal to a man out of training, would only disable one in such splendid

condition.[883] Pliny,[884] indeed, makes light of his danger. Speaking

of C. Curio’s two pivot-theatres, which during representations could be

wheeled inwards or outwards, this model grumbler declares: ‘The safety

of the gladiators was almost less compromised than that of the Roman

people, which allowed itself to be thus whirled round from side to

side.’

If worsted in combat and sentenced to receive the Sword (_ferrum

recipere_), the gladiator, prepared for his fate, met it with manly

firmness. When the down-turned thumbs granted mercy, the vanquished

got his _missio_ or discharge for the day. Augustus humanely abolished

the barbarity of shows _sine missione_, where no quarter was given.

The victor was presented with palms, whence _plurimarum palmarum

gladiator_; and with cash, which doubtless commended him to the other

sex. We read of old gladiators, showing that the career was not

necessarily fatal. These veterans, and sometimes novices who had

fought only in a few _munera_, were, at the request of the people,

discharged the service by the Editor or Exhibitor of the games. They

were then presented with a Rudis (_rude donati_), and, as Rudiarii

lived happily ever afterwards.

We have also notices of distinguished gladiators. Diogenes

Laertius[885] does not disdain to mention as the fourth Epicurus,

‘lastly, a gladiator.’ Spartacus, Crixus, and Œnomaus broke out of

Lentulus’ fencing-school, escaped from Capua, and made a camp at

Vesuvius; they used the Swords made out of iron plundered in the

slave-houses to such effect that Athenæus declares, ‘If Spartacus had

not died in battle, he would have caused no ordinary trouble to our

countrymen, as Eunus did in Sicily.’[886]

Gladiatorial shows were first exhibited (B.C. 246) in the Forum

Boarium by Marcus and D. Brutus at their father’s funeral, during the

Saturnalia (our Christmas) and the Minerva feasts.[887] They were

abolished by Constantine ‘the Great’ (A.D. 306–33), but the edict

seemed to give them fresh life; Frank prisoners were slaughtered by the

hundred in the arena of Trèves. They were finally suppressed (A.D. 404)

by Honorius, who made a martyr of the monk Telemachus. I need hardly

relate how this meddling ecclesiastic rushed into the amphitheatre to

separate the combatants, and was incontinently stoned by ‘the house.’

But the time had come for abolishing these glorious _spectacula_; as

mostly happens, long custom and familiarity had merged the use into

the abuse, and caused Lactantius to exclaim ‘tollenda est nobis!’ The

misuse had begun under Divus Cæsar, who collected so many gladiators

for the fights that his enemies became alarmed, and restricted the

number. Caligula, the ‘Bootling,’ was devoted to the sport, and

made some gladiators captains of his German guards. He deprived

the ‘Mirmillones’[888] of certain weapons. One Columbus coming off

victorious in a fight, but slightly hurt, he caused the wound to be

infused with poison, which got the name of Columbinum. The nervous

Claudius (‘Caldius’) assisted at the _spectacula_ ‘muffled up in a

pallium, a new fashion!’ Having spared, at the intercession of his

four sons, a conquered prize-fighter, he sent a billet round the house

reminding the spectators how much it behoved them to get children,

since these could procure favour and security for a gladiator. In later

years he became savage. If a combatant chanced to fall, especially one

of the Retiarii, he ordered him to be butchered that he might enjoy

the look of the face in the agonies of death. Two combatants happening

to kill each other, he ordered some little knives to be made of their

Swords. He also delighted in seeing Bestiarii, and he made the sport

most brutal and sanguinary. Nero, during his ‘golden quinquennium,’

ordered that no gladiators, even condemned criminals, should be slain;

and he persuaded four hundred senators and six hundred knights, some

of unbroken fortunes and unblemished fame, to fight in the arena.

He espoused the cause of the Thraces or Parmularians, and often

joined in the popular demonstrations in favour of the Prasine or

‘green faction,’ without, however, compromising his dignity or doing

injustice. In his later and crueller days,[889] hearing the master of

a family of gladiators say that a Thrax was a match for a Mirmillo,

but not so for the exhibitor of the games, he had him dragged from the

benches into the arena and exposed to the dogs, with this label, ‘A

Parmularian guilty of speaking blasphemy.’ And, as ‘Mero’ scandalised

the world by his passion for singing and harping, so Commodus degraded

himself by amateur gladiatorship. He was cunning of fence, but in

the most cowardly way. A powerful man and a practised gymnast, he

wore impenetrable armour and fought with a heavy Sword, whereas his

antagonists were allowed only blades of tin and lead. Even the humane

Trajan[890] exhibited after his victories some ten thousand Dacian

‘monomachists.’ The militarism of the Romans, however, made them

familiar with butchery. Thus Tacitus[891] says: ‘The Germans gratified

us with the spectacle of a battle in which above sixty thousand men

were slain.’ This ‘gladiatorial show’ took place near the canal of

Drusus, where the Roman guard on the Rhine commanded a view of the

other shore.

The gladiators used both forms of Swords, the straight two-edged blade

and the curved.[892] The Dimacheri carried, as the name denotes, two

weapons: these may have been either two Swords of the same size, as

carried by the Japanese,[893] or possibly Sword and dagger, a practice

long preserved on the shores of the Mediterranean. The same may be

said of the _duos gladios_ borne by the Gaul whom Torquatus slew.

The Hoplomachi, armed _cap-a-pie_, must also have been Swordsmen.

The Mirmillo[894] was weaponed with a curved blade, cutting inside

(‘gladio incurvo et falcato’): in Montfaucon, he carries a long convex

shield and a Sica or short-Sword.[895] Opposed to the Mirmillo was

the Retiarius, armed with net and trident: Cortez found net-soldiers

in Mexico, as was natural to fishermen. Winckelmann shows a fight

between the two: Retiarius has netted his fish and proceeds to use the

_fuscina_ or _tridens_, while a toga’d Lanista, rod in hand, stands

behind him and points out where to strike.

The Samnites were distinguished by the oblong tribal _scutum_[896] and

the leaf-shaped Greek Sword: so says the Comte de Caylus; but on the

monument erected by Caracalla to Bato, the weapon is straight up and

down. The Thræces or Threces (Thracians proper)[897] had round shields,

and instead of the huge Swords noted by Livy, the short knife called

by Juvenal _falx supina_.[898] The Thracian’s Sword closely resembles

that used in the Isle of Cos. Winckelmann[899] gives a combat between

two Thracians, each backed up by his Lanista. We find also a naked

Gladiator, with Sword and shield, fighting another in breast-belt,

apron (_subligaculum_), and boots, with a shield and a three-thonged

_flagellum_ or scourge.

The Gladiators were an order distinct from the Bestiarii (θηριομάχοι)

who fought against wild beasts; these were exhibited in the Forum,

those in the Circus. Again, Bestiarii, who can boast that St. Paul once

belonged to them, must not be confounded with the criminals thrown

_ad leones_, without means of defence, like Mentor, Androclus, and

early Christian communists.[900] The beast-fighters had their _scholæ

bestiarum_ or _bestiariorum_ where they practised weapons, and they

received _auctoramentum_ or pay. The arms were various: mostly they are

shown with a Sword in one hand, a veil in the other, and the left leg

protected by greaves. Under Divus Cæsar criminals for the first time

encountered wild beasts with silver weapons. The modern survival is

the Spanish bull-fight. Gladiatorism lasted in England after a fashion

till the days of Addison; amongst professional Swordsmen, the highest

surviving name is that of

——the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains

The monarch acknowledged of Mary’bone plains.[901]

To conclude this discursus on gladiatorism. Most popular sports are

cruel, but we must not confound, as is often done, cruelty with

brutality. The former may accompany greatness of intellect, the

latter is the characteristic of debasement. Every nation is disposed

to ‘fie-fie’ its neighbour’s favourite diversion. The English

fox-hunter and pigeon-shooter[902] are severe upon bull-fighting and

cock-fighting—the classical and Oriental pastime preserved in Spain

and in Spanish South America.[903] The boxer, who imitates, at a humble

distance, the Cestus-play of the Greeks and Romans, looks scandalised

at _la boxe Française_, with its garnishing of _savate_; and at the

Brazilian _capoeira_, who butts with his woolly head. And so _vice

versâ_. Absence or presence of fair play should, methinks, condemn

or justify all the various forms of sport which are not mere or pure

barbarities. And, applying this test, we shall not harsh judge the

gladiatorial games of Rome.

I now proceed to describe the Sword amongst the Romans, a simpler

subject than in Greece.

As the so-termed founding of Rome took place during the early Iron

Age of Southern Europe, it is probable that the citizens, like their

predecessors the Etruscans, originally made their blades of copper and

bronze, the leaf-shape being borrowed from the Greeks, as we see it

retained by the gladiators. The material would last into the Age of

Steel, but even in her early years Rome must have preferred the harder

metal. Pliny expressly tells us that Porsena, after his short-lived

conquest, prohibited the future masters of the world from using iron

except in agriculture; it was hardly safe to handle a stylus. Polybius

notes that in his day bronze was entirely restricted to defensive

armour—helmets, breast-plates, and greaves. All offensive weapons,

swords and spears, were either made of, or tipped with, steel. To this

superiority of material we may attribute the Roman successes in the

second Punic war (B.C. 218–201), and their conquest of the gallant

Gauls, when their foes could oppose nothing better than bronze. They

had reason to call a Sword _ferrum_.[904]

[Heading: _THE SWORD IN ROME._]

The Romans called the Sword Ensis, Gladius, and Spatha. The two former

are used as synonyms by Quinctilian,[905] but the first presently

became poetical. The derivations are eminently unsatisfactory. Voss

would find Ensis in ἔγχος, _hasta_; Sanskritists in _Asi_, a Sword, the

Zend _Anh_. Gladius is popularly drawn _a clade ferenda, quasi cladius_

(Varro and Littleton); Voss prefers κλάδον (_ramus_), a young branch,

the earliest Sword: to others it appears a congener of the Keltic

_Clad_, the destroyer. Of the derivation of ‘Spatha’ I have already

treated: Suetonius[906] makes it equivalent to Machaira; but this word

and its diminutive Machærium are loosely used.

The Roman Sword was, like their other weapons, longer and larger,

heavier and more formidable than that of the Greeks.[907] The earliest

form, the ‘hero’s arm’ of Virgil and Livy, was a short single-edged

cutting weapon of bronze, also called the ‘Gallic Sword,’ because

long preserved by that people. It is shown in the arm of the Roman

Auxiliary (fig. 276). Another very early, if not the earliest, shape

was the leaf, which varied in length from nineteen inches (the blade

found at Mayence) to twenty-six inches (the Bingen find). The latter is

peculiar; the hilt is ornamented with bronze, and it has a cross-guard.

Upon another blade (fig. 277), of which a cast is in the Artillery

Museum, Paris, appears the armourer’s mark, _Sabini_ (_opus_).

[Illustration: FIG. 274.—1. ROMAN SWORD (19 inches long); 2. GLADIUS.]

[Illustration: FIG. 275.—BRONZE TWO-EDGED EARLY ROMAN ENSIS.[908]]

[Illustration: FIG. 276.—SWORD OF ROMAN AUXILIARY.]

[Illustration: FIG. 277.—ROMAN SWORD (Musée d’Art.).]

The third form, which is most generally identified with the Roman

soldier, greatly resembles that which was introduced into the French

army by, not without financial benefit to, Marshal Soult. The average

length may be assumed at twenty-two inches, with a grip of six inches

and a cross-bar (not always present) four inches and a half long and

four lines thick. Some specimens show a distinct hilt-plate (fig.

274, 2). A mid-rib ran along the blade, which was either straight or

slightly narrowing, and it ended in the bevelled point (_langue de

carpe_).[909] This thick heavy blade, used _cæsim et punctim_, was

most efficient for hand-to-hand work, and the Roman soon mastered the

truth, unknown to most Orientals, that ‘the cut wounds and the thrust

kills.’[910] Accordingly they soon learned to despise the old Sword,

short and crooked. The national weapon must have been used by Æmilius

at the Battle of Telamon (B.C. 225), for Polybius notes that the Roman

blade could not only deliver thrust but give the cut with good effect.

Shortly after that fight the Romans, during their earliest invasions

of the Spanish Peninsula (B.C. 219), intended to subvert Carthaginian

rule, adopted the Gladius Hispanus, including the _pugio_ (fig. 280);

and the change from bronze to steel became universal after the battle

of Cannæ. The superior material aided them not a little in conquering

their obstinate rivals. The Roman Proconsul M. Fulvius captured

(B.C. 192) Toledo (Τώλητον), Toletum, ‘a small city, but strong in

position;’[911] and the superior temper of the steel, attributed with

truth, I believe, to the Tagus-water, recommended it to the conquerors.

A later conquest of the Regnum Noricum[912] (Styria, B.C. 16) gave

them mines of equal excellence. From Pliny and Diodorus Siculus[913]

we know perfectly how the Celtiberians prepared their iron ores. Of

this material was made the Spatha[914] or Iberian blade, a name adopted

under the Empire, especially under Hadrian (A.D. 117–138). Long,

two-edged, and heavier than the short Xiphos-Gladius, it added fresh

force to the _impetus gladiorum_.

[Illustration: FIG. 278.—SWORD AND VAGINA (SHEATH).]

[Illustration: FIG. 279.—DITTO.]

[Illustration: FIG. 280.—THE PUGIO.]

In Cicero’s time the Sword must have been of full length to explain

the joke against his son-in-law; and Macrobius expressly tells us

that Lentulus was wearing a blade which justified the ‘chaff.’ During

the days of Theodosius (A.D. 378–394), the straight and strong weapon

of Hadrian’s time again shortened till it was not twice the size of

the hilt; in fact it became a ‘Parazonium.’ The General’s Sword (says

Meyrick) was called Cinctorium, because carried at the girdle that

surrounded the lorica, just above the hips; ‘it greatly resembled the

Lacedæmonian Sword.’

The Parazonium, _pugio_[915] or dagger, accompanied the Gladius under

the later Empire, and was carried in the same, or in another, belt,

generally on the opposite flank. It is the Greek ἐγχειρίδιον, and we

have seen its origin in Egypt. The metal was successively pure copper,

bronze and steel. The shape of this two-edged stiletto is either

lanceolate (fig. 280 _b_),[916] showing its descent from the spear,

or the straight lines converge to a point (_ibid._ _a_). It has a

notable resemblance to the daggers found in Egyptian tombs (_ibid._

_c_), and the weapon with the Z-section, still used in the Caucasus

and in Persia.[917] The tang is usually fitted to receive a wooden

plate on either side: a favourite substance was the heart of the Syrian

_terebinth_ (the ‘oak’ of Mamre).

[Illustration: FIG. 281.—TWO-EDGED ROMAN STILETTOS.]

The bronze hilt of the Gladius was retained long after the blade was

made of steel. The common grip was of wood set with metal knobs or

rivets; the richer sorts were of bone and ivory, amber and alabaster,

silver and gold. The heft ended in a _capulus_; this metal pommel[918]

was, in its simplest state, a plain mound or a stepped pyramid. But

presently the ‘little apple’ became the seat of decoration;[919] Pliny

moans over it, and Claudian speaks of _capulis radiantibus enses_.

This fashion lasted deep into the Middle Ages. The haft was often

capped with the head of some animal after Assyrian fashion, and that

of the eagle recurved was a favourite in Rome. In the Armeria Reale

(Turin)[920] there is a fine Roman chopper-blade with a peculiar

handle, and a ram’s head for hilt. The handle was usually without

guard-plate, and at most it had only a simple cross-bar or a small

oval.[921]

The original _vagina_ (sheath) was of leather or wood, ending in

a _fibula_ or half-moon-shaped ferule of metal. Some scabbards on

the monuments, where the Sword, like the helmet and the _pilum_, is

conventionally treated, show the scabbard with three opposing rings

on either side; and, as the belt had only one or two, it is not easy

to explain the use of the other five.[922] In the luxurious days of

the Empire, the sheath, like the heft, the pommel, and the ferule, was

made of gold and silver reliefs, _repoussée_-work, and incrustations

of precious stones disposed upon every part, made it a _chef-d’œuvre_

of art. Such is the ‘Sword,’ or rather ‘Parazonium, of Tiberius’ dug

up at Mayence in 1848, and now in the British Museum. The scabbard,

the mouth, the rings on either side, and the ferule are strengthened

and beautified by reliefs in gold and silver, and the central field

bears the portrait of the beautiful ‘Biberius.’ Another Parazonium

(Anglo-Rom. Coll.) has an iron blade and a bronze scabbard.

[Illustration: FIG. 282.—SWORD OF TIBERIUS.]

A reform of this over-luxury ensued under Constantius II. (A.D. 350),

and under the noble and glorious Julian[923] ‘the Apostate.’ The

latter took a lesson from the Eastern Persian, Parthian, and Sarmatian

(Slav?); moreover, he adopted the iron face-guard known at Nineveh,

and the mail-coat found upon the Trajan column. These revivals and

improvements extended deep into the Age of Chivalry.

The Sword was carried in the _balteus_, an Etruscan word applied

indifferently, it would appear, to the bauldric (τελαμών), or to the

waist-‘belt’ (ζώνη or ζωστήρ, _cingulum_). Both were of cloth or

leather, either plain or decorated with embroidery, with metal plates,

splendid and elaborate rings and fibulæ, and buckles and brooches of

the most precious material. It is generally said that the Gladius, and

its successor the long cut-and-thrust Spatha, were worn belted to the

right, as amongst the Persians. The old Ensis, on the other hand, was

slung to the left, like the Egyptians, Assyrians, Hindús, and other

‘barbarians.’[924] The latter fashion enabled the Swordsman to draw

his weapon safely by passing hand and forearm across his body under

the shield. He would also in this way grip the hilt with the thumb at

the back of the blade, where it should ever be held, especially when

delivering the cut. I believe, however, that the Sword was worn by the

Romans, as amongst the Greeks, on either flank.[925]

We have no knowledge, except from books, of Roman fancy-Swords. Such,

for example, was the _Cluden_ or juggler’s ‘shutting’-Sword, which ran

up into the hilt. ‘So great is your fear of steel,’ says Apuleius in

his defence, ‘that you are afraid to dance with the “close-Sword.”’

Roman blades of iron are not often found, and yet they must have been

made by the million. Captain Grose[926] figures a leaf-shaped blade,

like that of the modern Somal, taken from the Severn near Gloucester.

Meyrick tells us[927] that Woodchester produced an iron Sword-blade

resembling a large and broad knife (the oldest form of Gladius?) and a

dagger (_pugio_), nearly one foot long, and much resembling the modern

French bayonet. He mentions another iron Gladius nineteen and a half

inches long, with a fibula of brass. Rev. T. Douglas, in his ‘Nænia

Britannica’[928] shows the find in a Kentish barrow. The Sword measures

thirty-five and a quarter inches from pommel to point; the iron blade,

thirty inches by two inches broad, is flat and two-edged. The wooden

grip had decayed; the scabbard was of wood covered with leather and

the weapon hung by a leather strap to the left side. Excavations at

South Shields produced, says the Rev. J. Collingwood Bruce,[929] five

Roman Swords, two to three feet long, with wooden scabbards and bronze

crampets or ferules.

If Greece produced the golden youth of European civilisation, Rome

bore the men of antiquity. She taught by example and precept the

eternal lesson of individual and national dignity, of law and justice,

and of absolute toleration in religious matters. She had no fear

of growing great, and scruples about ‘territorial aggrandisement’

were absolutely unknown to her. The _quondam_ Masters of the World

effected their marvels of conquest and colonisation with these arts,

urged by a forceful will, a will so single-viewed and so persistent

that it levelled every obstacle. A similar gift of determination and

perseverance made the Turks and Turcomans of a former generation, mere

barbarians on horseback, bear down all opposition: hence the Arab still

says: ‘Mount your blood mare and the Osmanli shall catch you on his

lame ass!’ In virtue of an equal obstinacy, the Kelto-Scandinavian (I

will not call him an ‘Anglo-Saxon’), the modern Englishman, has trod

worthily in the footsteps of the old Italian, and from his ‘angle of

the world,’ his scrap of bleak inclement island, has extended his sway

far beyond the orb known to his Cæsars. May he only remember the word

‘Forwards!’ and take to heart the fact that to stand still is to fall

back.

The Roman of the Republic was incomparably the first soldier of his

age; and he equalled the best of the moderns in discipline, in loyalty

to his loaders, and in enduring privations, hardship, and fatigue.

But a glance at any of his campaigns—the famous ‘Commentaries’

suffice—shows how completely dependent he was upon the quality of his

commander. Handled by second- and third-rate men, such as generals

mostly have been, are, and will be, he was ignobly defeated, in

his most glorious days, by the barbarous Gauls of Brennus; by the

half-servile hordes of Hannibal; by the degenerate Greeks of Pyrrhus

with their ‘huge earth-shaking beasts,’ and by the armed mob which

the Cheruscan Arminius (Ormin or Hermann) led against the incompetent

Varus. His campaigns, invariably successful in the end, were marked

by many reverses; and in cases of sudden and sinister emergencies he

was too often scared and put to flight. In fact, he could not fight a

‘soldier’s battle’; nor has any race done this effectively in modern

days except the English and the Slavs.

But when following military genius, the Roman soldier performed

prodigies of gallantry and valour. A Julius Cæsar, a conqueror in fifty

pitched battles, whose practice was to order _venite_ not _ite!_ whose

military instinct could cry at the spur of the moment in the Pharsalian

fight, _faciem feri, miles!_ and who could reduce mutineers to reason

by one word, _Quirites!_ never failed to point the way to victory.

We learn from the Great Epileptic[930] himself the secret of his

unexampled success; the care with which he cultivated the individual.

‘He instructed the soldiers (when exposed to a new mode of attack), not

like the general of a veteran army which had been victorious in so many

battles, but like a Lanista training his gladiators. He taught them

with what foot they must advance or retire; when they were to oppose

and make good their ground; when to counterfeit an attack; at what

place and in what manner to launch their javelins.’[931]

His very arrogance was effective in making him a ruler of men, as when

on receiving bad tidings he struck his Sword-hilt, saying, ‘This will

give me my rights!’ And of his ‘politiké’ (as the Greeks call it) we

may judge by what Polyænus[932] tells us of him. ‘The Romans had been

taught by their commanders that a soldier should not be decorated with

gold or silver, but place his confidence in his Sword,’ says Livy.[933]

But Divus Cæsar encouraged his men to decorate their weapons with all

manner of valuables for a truly soldier-like reason, that they might

be the less ready to part with their property in flight. And though he

plundered freely and rifled even the fanes of the gods, according to

Suetonius, he was careful, like a certain modern Condottiere, to see

that his men were well fed and regularly paid by means of the ‘loot.’

[Heading: _THE ROMAN SOLDIER._]

The Roman soldier had another valuable gift, which has not wholly left

the Latin race. He knew the ‘magic of patience,’ and was aware that

‘le monde est la maison du plus fort.’ So in the Napoleonic days the

Spaniards believed chiefly in General ‘No Importa’ (no matter), and

made little of defeat, hoping it might lead to victory. Nor did the

Roman soldier degenerate till the citizen set him the example. Velleius

Paterculus dated the decline of Roman virtue after the destruction of

Carthage, when civil disputes were decided by the Sword; others to

the invasion of luxury with Lucullus. Yet Pliny could boast of his

fellow-countrymen: ‘They have doubtless surpassed every other nation in

the display of valour.’

But the Roman soldier generally prevailed against races whom he

excelled in size, weight, and muscular strength. His superiority in

arms, like that of the Greek, was not conspicuous when he came into

contact with the ‘barbarians,’[934] especially with the northern

barbarians, after they had learned the moral training and confidence

of discipline and the practical art of war, as well as, if not better

than, himself. For the man of the higher European latitudes has ever

surpassed the Southron in strength of constitution, in stature, in

weight, in muscular power, and in the mysterious something called

vitality. Hence it is a rule in anthropology that the North beats the

South; in the Southern hemisphere the reverse being the case, as we see

in the wars of the Hispano-American republics, Chili _versus_ Peru. In

Europe I need only point out that the Northmen of Scandinavia conquered

Normandy and that Norman-French conquered England. The only exceptions

are easily explained. The genius of Divus Cæsar made his Romans

overcome, overrun, and subjugate Gaul. Napoleon the Great found the

road _à Berlin_ open and easy. But intellectual monsters like these two

are the rare produce of Time; and human nature requires a long period

of rest before repeating such portents.

Those who read history without prepossessions and prejudices are

compelled to conclude that the life and career of a nation are mainly

determined by its physical size and its muscular strength. We have only

to learn how many foot-pounds a race can raise and we can forecast its

so-called ‘destinies.’[935]

The Book of the Sword · 第 7 / 11 章