NEGOTIATIONS.
B.C. 280-279
Effects of the victory.--Public opinion at Rome.--Expectations of
Pyrrhus.--His mistake.--Cineas sent an embassador to Rome.--Cineas's
plans for bribing the Roman senators.--Speech of Cineas in the Roman
senate.--Debate in the senate.--An incident of the discussion.--Appius
Claudius is brought on a bed to the senate.--Speech of Appius
Claudius.--Effect of his speech on the senate.--Cineas makes report of
his mission.--Fabricius sent to Pyrrhus.--His reception.--The elephant
concealed in the tent.--Pyrrhus makes great offers to Fabricius.--The
Roman armies advance.--The two generals.--The armies encamp in sight
of each other.--His military honors.--Story of Decius Mus.--The
vision.--Extraordinary alternative proposed.--The two consuls draw
lots.--Decius sacrifices himself.--Superstitious fears of the
soldiers.--Decius Mus.--Reply of Decius Mus to Pyrrhus.--The Romans
afraid of the elephants.--The battle.--The elephants.--War
chariots.--Doubtful victory.--Winter-quarters.--Nicias.--Pyrrhus's
physician.--His treachery.--A generous exchange of prisoners.--No
peace.
The result of the battle on the banks of the Siris, decisive and
complete as the victory was on the part of the Greeks, produced, of
course, a very profound sensation at Rome. Instead, however, of
discouraging and disheartening the Roman senate and people, it only
aroused them to fresh energy and determination. The victory was
considered as wholly due to the extraordinary military energy and
skill of Pyrrhus, and not to any superiority of the Greek troops over
those of the Romans in courage, in discipline, or in efficiency in the
field. In fact, it was a saying at Rome at the time, that it was
Laevinus that had been conquered by Pyrrhus in the battle, and not the
Romans by the Greeks. The Roman government, accordingly, began
immediately to enlist new recruits, and to make preparations for a new
campaign, more ample and complete, and on a far greater scale than
before.
Pyrrhus was much surprised when he heard these things. He had
supposed that the Romans would have been disheartened by the defeat
which they had sustained, and would now think only of proposals and
negotiations for peace. He seems to have been but very imperfectly
informed in respect to the condition of the Roman commonwealth at this
period, and to the degree of power to which it had attained. He
supposed that, after suffering so signal and decisive a defeat, the
Romans would regard themselves as conquered, and that nothing remained
to them now but to consider how they could make the best terms with
their conqueror. The Roman troops had, indeed, withdrawn from the
neighborhood of the place where the battle had been fought, and had
left Pyrrhus to take possession of the ground without molestation.
Pyrrhus was even allowed to advance some considerable distance toward
Rome; but he soon learned that, notwithstanding their temporary
reverses, his enemies had not the most remote intention of submitting
to him, but were making preparations to take the field again with a
greater force than ever.
Under these circumstances, Pyrrhus was for a time somewhat at a loss
what to do. Should he follow up his victory, and advance boldly
toward the capital, with a view of overcoming the Roman power
entirely, or should he be satisfied with the advantage which he had
already gained, and be content, for the present, with being master of
Western Italy? After much hesitation, he concluded on the latter
course. He accordingly suspended his hostile operations, and prepared
to send an embassador to Rome to propose peace. Cineas was, of course,
the embassador commissioned to act on this occasion.
Cineas accordingly proceeded to Rome. He was accompanied by a train of
attendants suitable to his rank as a royal embassador, and he took
with him a great number of costly presents to be offered to the
leading men in Rome, by way, as it would seem, of facilitating his
negotiations. The nature of the means which he thus appears to have
relied upon in his embassy to Rome may, perhaps, indicate the secret
of his success in the diplomatic duties which he had performed in
Greece and in Asia, where he had acquired so much distinction for his
dexterity in negotiating treaties favorable to the interests of his
master. However this may be, Cineas found that the policy which he
contemplated would not answer in Rome. Soon after his arrival in the
city, and in an early stage of the negotiations, he began to offer
his presents to the public men with whom he had to deal; but they
refused to accept them. The Roman senators to whom the gifts were
offered returned them all, saying that, in case a treaty should be
concluded, and peace made between the two nations, they should then
have no objections to an interchange of such civilities; but, while
the negotiations were pending, they conceived it improper for them to
receive any such offerings. It may, perhaps, be taken as an additional
proof of the nature of the influences which Cineas was accustomed to
rely upon in his diplomatic undertakings, that he offered many of his
gifts on this occasion to the ladies of the Roman senators as well as
to the senators themselves; but the wives were found as incorruptible
as the husbands. The gifts were all alike returned.
Not discouraged by the failure of this attempt, Cineas obtained
permission of the Roman senate to appear before them, and to address
them on the subject of the views which Pyrrhus entertained in respect
to the basis of the peace which he proposed. On the appointed day
Cineas went to the senate-chamber, and there made a long and very able
and eloquent address, in the presence of the senate and of the
principal inhabitants of the city. He was very much impressed on this
occasion with the spectacle which the august assembly presented to his
view. He said afterward, in fact, that the Roman senate seemed to him
like a congress of kings, so dignified and imposing was the appearance
of the body, and so impressive was the air of calmness and gravity
which reigned in their deliberations. Cineas made a very able and
effective speech. He explained the views and proposals of Pyrrhus,
presenting them in a light as favorable and attractive as possible.
Pyrrhus was willing, he said, to make peace on equal terms. He
proposed that he should give up all his prisoners without ransom, and
that the Romans should give up theirs. He would then form an alliance
with the Romans, and aid them in the future conquests that they
meditated. All he asked was that he might have the sanction of the
Roman government to his retaining Tarentum and the countries connected
with and dependent upon it; and that, in maintaining his dominion over
these lands, he might look upon the Roman people as his allies and
friends.
After Cineas had concluded his speech and had withdrawn from the
senate-chamber, a debate arose among the senators on the propositions
which he had made to them. There was a difference of opinion; some
were for rejecting the proposals at once; others thought that they
ought to be accepted. Those who were inclined to peace urged the
wisdom of acceding to Pyrrhus's proposals by representing the great
danger of continuing the war. "We have already," said they, "lost one
great and decisive battle; and, in case of the renewal of the
struggle, we must expect to find our enemy still more formidable than
he was before; for many of the Italian nations of the eastern coast
have joined his standard since hearing of the victory which he has
obtained, and more are coming in. His strength, in fact, is growing
greater and greater every day; and it is better for us to make peace
with him now, on the honorable terms which he proposes to us, rather
than to risk another battle, which may lead to the most disastrous
consequences."
In the midst of this discussion, an aged senator, who had been for a
long time incapacitated by his years and infirmities from appearing in
his seat, was seen coming to the assembly, supported and led by his
sons and sons-in-law, who were making way for him in the passages and
conducting him in. His name was Appius Claudius. He was blind and
almost helpless through age and infirmity. He had heard in his chamber
of the irresolution of the senate in respect to the further
prosecution of the war with Pyrrhus, and had caused himself to be
taken from his bed and borne through the streets by servants on a
chair to the senate-house, that he might there once more raise his
voice to save, if possible, the honor and dignity of his country. As
he entered the chamber, he became at once the object of universal
attention. As soon as he reached his seat, a respectful silence began
to prevail throughout the assembly, all listening to hear what he had
to say. He expressed himself as follows:
"Senators of Rome,--I am blind, and I have been accustomed to consider
my blindness as a calamity; but now I could wish that I had been deaf
as well as blind, and then I might never have heard of the disgrace
which seems to impend over my country. Where are now the boastings
that we made when Alexander the Great commenced his career, that if he
had turned his arms toward Italy and Rome, instead of Persia and the
East, we would never have submitted to him; that he never would have
gained the renown of being invincible if he had only attacked _us_,
but would, on the other hand, if he invaded our dominions, only have
contributed to the glory of the Roman name by his flight or his fall?
These boasts we made so loudly that the echo of them spread throughout
the world. And yet now, here is an obscure adventurer who has landed
on our shores as an enemy and an invader, and because he has met with
a partial and temporary success, you are debating whether you shall
not make an ignominious peace with him, and allow him to remain. How
vain and foolish does all our boastful defiance of Alexander appear
when we now tremble at the name of Pyrrhus--a man who has been all his
life a follower and dependent of one of Alexander's inferior
generals--a man who has scarcely been able to maintain himself in his
own dominions--who could not retain even a small and insignificant
part of Macedon which he had conquered, but was driven ignominiously
from it; and who comes into Italy now rather as a refugee than a
conqueror--an adventurer who seeks power here because he can not
sustain himself at home! I warn you not to expect that you can gain
any thing by making such a peace with him as he proposes. Such a
peace makes no atonement for the past, and it offers no security for
the future. On the contrary, it will open the door to other invaders,
who will come, encouraged by Pyrrhus's success, and emboldened by the
contempt which they will feel for you in allowing yourselves to be
thus braved and insulted with impunity."
The effect of this speech on the senate was to produce a unanimous
determination to carry on the war. Cineas was accordingly dismissed
with this answer: that the Romans would listen to no propositions for
peace while Pyrrhus remained in Italy. If he would withdraw from the
country altogether, and retire to his own proper dominions, they would
then listen to any proposals that he might make for a treaty of
alliance and amity. So long, however, as he remained on Italian
ground, they would make no terms with him whatever, though he should
gain a thousand victories, but would wage war upon him to the last
extremity.
Cineas returned to the camp of Pyrrhus, bearing this reply. He
communicated also to Pyrrhus a great deal of information in respect to
the government and the people of Rome, the extent of the population,
and the wealth and resources of the city; for while he had been
engaged in conducting his negotiations, he had made every exertion to
obtain intelligence on all these points, and he had been a very
attentive and sagacious observer of all that he had seen. The account
which he gave was very little calculated to encourage Pyrrhus in his
future hopes and expectations. The people of Rome, Cineas said, were
far more numerous than he had before supposed. They had now already on
foot an army twice as large as the one which Pyrrhus had defeated, and
multitudes besides were still left in the city, of a suitable age for
enlisting, sufficient to form even larger armies still. The prospect,
in a word, was very far from such as to promise Pyrrhus an easy
victory.
Of course, both parties began now to prepare vigorously for war.
Before hostilities were resumed, however, the Romans sent a messenger
to the camp of Pyrrhus to negotiate an exchange of prisoners. The name
of this embassador was Fabricius. Fabricius, as Pyrrhus was informed
by Cineas, was very highly esteemed at Rome for his integrity and for
his military abilities, but he was without property, being dependent
wholly on his pay as an officer of the army. Pyrrhus received
Fabricius in the most respectful manner, and treated him with every
mark of consideration and honor. He, moreover, offered him privately a
large sum of money in gold. He told Fabricius that, in asking his
acceptance of such a gift, he did not do it for any base purpose, but
intended it only as a token of friendship and hospitality. Fabricius,
however, refused to accept the present, and Pyrrhus pressed him no
further.
The next day Pyrrhus formed a plan for giving his guest a little
surprise. He supposed that he had never seen an elephant, and he
accordingly directed that one of the largest of these animals should
be placed secretly behind a curtain, in an apartment where Fabricius
was to be received. The elephant was covered with his armor, and
splendidly caparisoned. After Fabricius had come in, and while he was
sitting in the apartment wholly unconscious of what was before him,
all at once the curtain was raised, and the elephant was suddenly
brought to view; and, at the same instant, the huge animal, raising
his trunk, flourished it in a threatening manner over Fabricius's
head, making at the same time a frightful cry, such as he had been
trained to utter for the purpose of striking terror into the enemy, in
charging upon them on the field of battle. Fabricius, instead of
appearing terrified, or even astonished at the spectacle, sat quietly
in his seat, to all appearance entirely unmoved, and, turning to
Pyrrhus with an air of the utmost composure, said coolly, "You see
that you make no impression upon me, either by your gold yesterday or
by your beast to-day."
[Illustration: THE ELEPHANT CONCEALED.]
Pyrrhus was not at all displeased with this answer, blunt as it may
seem. On the contrary, he seems to have been very deeply impressed
with a sense of the stern and incorruptible virtue of Fabricius's
character, and he felt a strong desire to obtain the services of such
an officer in his own court and army. He accordingly made new
proposals to Fabricius, urging him to use his influence to induce the
Romans to make peace, and then to go with him to Epirus, and enter
into his service there.
"If you will do so," said Pyrrhus, "I will make you the chief of my
generals, and my own most intimate friend and companion, and you shall
enjoy abundant honors and rewards."
"No," replied Fabricius, "I can not accept those offers, nor is it for
your interest that I should accept them; for, were I to go with you to
Epirus, your people, as soon as they came to know me well, would lose
all their respect for you, and would wish to have me, instead of you,
for their king."
We are, perhaps, to understand this rejoinder, as well as the one
which Fabricius made to Pyrrhus in respect to the elephant, as
intended in a somewhat jocose and playful sense; since, if we suppose
them to have been gravely and seriously uttered, they would indicate a
spirit of vanity and of empty boasting which would seem to be wholly
inconsistent with what we know of Fabricius's character. However this
may be, Pyrrhus was pleased with both; and the more that he saw and
learned of the Romans, the more desirous he became of terminating the
war and forming an alliance with them. But the Romans firmly persisted
in refusing to treat with him, except on the condition of his
withdrawing first entirely from Italy, and this was a condition with
which he deemed it impossible to comply. It would be equivalent, in
fact, to an acknowledgment that he had been entirely defeated.
Accordingly, both sides began again to prepare vigorously for war.
The Romans marched southward from the city with a large army, under
the command of their two consuls. The names of the consuls at this
time were Sulpicius Saverrio and Decius Mus. These generals advanced
into Apulia, a country on the western coast of Italy, north of
Tarentum. Here they encamped on a plain at the foot of the Apennines,
near a place called Asculum. There was a stream in front of their
camp, and the mountains were behind it. The stream was large and deep,
and of course it greatly protected their position. On hearing of the
approach of the Romans, Pyrrhus himself took the field at the head of
all his forces, and advanced to meet them. He came to the plain on
which the Roman army was encamped, and posted himself on the opposite
bank of the stream. The armies were thus placed in close vicinity to
each other, being separated only by the stream. The question was,
which should attempt to cross the stream and make the attack upon the
other. They remained in this position for a considerable time, neither
party venturing to attempt the passage.
While things were in this condition--the troops on each side waiting
for an opportunity of attacking their enemies, and probably without
any fear whatever of the physical dangers which they were to encounter
in the conflict--the feeling of composure and confidence among the men
in Pyrrhus's army was greatly disturbed by a singular superstition. It
was rumored in the army that Decius Mus, the Roman commander, was
endowed with a species of magical and supernatural power, which would,
under certain circumstances, be fatal to all who opposed him. And
though the Greeks seem to have had no fear of the material steel of
the Roman legions, this mysterious and divine virtue, which they
imagined to reside in the commander, struck them with an invincible
terror.
The story was, that the supernatural power in question originated in
one of the ancestors of the present Decius, a brave Roman general,
who lived and flourished in the century preceding the time of Pyrrhus.
His name, too, was Decius Mus. In the early part of his life, when he
was a subordinate officer, he was the means of saving the whole army
from most imminent danger, by taking possession of an eminence among
the mountains, with the companies that were under his command, and
holding it against the enemy until the Roman troops could be drawn out
of a dangerous defile where they would otherwise have been overwhelmed
and destroyed. He was greatly honored for this exploit. The consul who
commanded on the occasion rewarded him with a golden crown, a hundred
oxen, and a magnificent white bull, with gilded horns. The common
soldiers, too, held a grand festival and celebration in honor of him,
in which they crowned him with a wreath made of dried grasses on the
field, according to an ancient custom which prevailed among the Romans
of rewarding in this way any man who should be the means of saving an
army. Of course, such an event as saving an army was of very rare
occurrence; and, accordingly, the crowning of a soldier by his
comrades on the field was a very distinguished honor, although the
decoration itself was made of materials so insignificant and
worthless.
Decius rose rapidly after this time from rank to rank, until at length
he was chosen consul. In the course of his consulship, he took the
field with one of his colleagues, whose name was Torquatus, at the
head of a large army, in the prosecution of a very important war in
the interior of the country. The time arrived at length for a decisive
battle to be fought. Both armies were drawn up on the field, the
preparations were all made, and the battle was to be fought on the
following day. In the night, however, a vision appeared to each
consul, informing him that it had been decreed by fate that a
_general_ on one side and the _army_ on the other were to be destroyed
on the following day; and that, consequently, either of the consuls,
by sacrificing himself, might secure the destruction of the enemy. On
the other hand, if they were to take measures to save themselves, the
general on the other side would be killed, and on their side the
_army_ would be defeated and cut to pieces.
The two consuls, on conferring together upon the following morning,
immediately decided that either one or the other of them should die,
in order to secure victory to the arms of their country; and the
question at once arose, what method they should adopt to determine
which of them should be the sacrifice. At last it was agreed that they
would go into battle as usual, each in command of his own wing of the
army, and that the one whose wing should first begin to give way
should offer himself as the victim. The arrangements were made
accordingly, and the result proved that Decius was the one on whom the
dire duty of self-immolation was to devolve. The wing under his
command began to give way. He immediately resolved to fulfill his vow.
He summoned the high priest. He clothed himself in the garb of a
victim about to be offered in sacrifice. Then, with his military cloak
wrapped about his head, and standing upon a spear that had been
previously laid down upon the ground, he repeated in the proper form
words by which he devoted himself and the army of the enemy to the God
of Death, and then finally mounted upon his horse and drove furiously
in among the thickest of the enemy. Of course he was at once thrust
through with a hundred spears and javelins; and immediately afterward
the army of the enemy gave way on all hands, and the Romans swept the
field, completely victorious.
The power which was in this instance supernaturally granted to Decius
to secure the victory to the Roman arms, by sacrificing his own life
on the field of battle, afterward descended, it was supposed, as an
inheritance, from father to son. Decius Mus, the commander opposed to
Pyrrhus, was the grandson of his namesake referred to above; and now
it was rumored among the Greeks that he intended, as soon as the
armies came into action, to make the destruction of his enemies sure
by sacrificing himself, as his grandfather had done. The soldiers of
Pyrrhus were willing to meet any of the ordinary and natural chances
and hazards of war; but, where the awful and irresistible decrees of
the spiritual world were to be against them, it is not strange that
they dreaded the encounter.
Under these circumstances, Pyrrhus sent a party of messengers to the
Roman camp to say to Decius, that if in the approaching battle he
attempted to resort to any such arts of necromancy to secure the
victory to the Roman side, he would find himself wholly unsuccessful
in the attempt; for the Greek soldiers had all been instructed not to
kill him if he should throw himself among them, but to take him alive
and bring him a prisoner to Pyrrhus's camp; and that then, after the
battle was over, he should be subjected, they declared, to the most
cruel and ignominious punishments, as a magician and an impostor.
Decius sent back word, in reply, that Pyrrhus had no occasion to give
himself any uneasiness in respect to the course which the Roman
general would pursue in the approaching battle. The measure that he
had referred to was one to which the Romans were not accustomed to
resort except in emergencies of the most extreme and dangerous
character, and Pyrrhus ought not to flatter himself with the idea that
the Romans regarded his invasion as of sufficient consequence to
require them to have recourse to any unusual means of defense. They
were fully convinced of their ability to meet and conquer him by
ordinary modes of warfare. To prove that they were honest in this
opinion, they offered to waive the advantage which the river afforded
them as a means of defense, and allow Pyrrhus to cross it without
molestation, with a view to fighting the battle afterward upon the
open field; or they would themselves cross the river, and fight the
battle on Pyrrhus's side of it--whichever Pyrrhus himself preferred.
They asked for no advantage, but were willing to meet their
adversaries on equal terms, and abide by the result.
Pyrrhus could not with honor decline to accept this challenge. He
decided to remain where he was, and allow the Romans to cross the
stream. This they accordingly did; and when all the troops had
effected the passage, they were drawn up in battle array on the plain.
Pyrrhus marshaled his forces also, and both parties prepared for the
contest.
The Romans stood most in awe of the elephants, and they resorted to
some peculiar and extraordinary means of resisting them. They prepared
a great number of chariots, each of which was armed with a long
pointed spear, projecting forward in such a manner that when the
chariots should be driven on toward the elephants, these spears or
beaks should pierce the bodies of the beasts and destroy them. The
chariots, too, were filled with men, who were all provided with
fire-brands, which they were to throw at the elephants, and frighten
them, as they came on. These chariots were all carefully posted in
front of that part of Pyrrhus's army where the elephants were
stationed, and the charioteers were strictly ordered not to move until
they should see the elephants advancing.
The battle, as might have been expected from the circumstances which
preceded it, and from the character of the combatants, was fought with
the most furious and persevering desperation. It continued through the
whole day; and in the various parts of the field, and during the
different hours of the day, the advantage was sometimes strongly on
one side, and sometimes on the other, so that it was wholly uncertain,
for a long time, what the ultimate result would be. The elephants
succeeded in getting round the chariots which had been posted to
intercept them, and effected a great destruction of the Roman troops.
On the other hand, a detachment of the Roman army made their way to
the camp of Pyrrhus, and attacked it desperately. Pyrrhus withdrew a
part of his forces to protect his camp, and that turned the tide
against him on the field. By means of the most Herculean exertions,
Pyrrhus rallied his men, and restored their confidence; and then, for
a time, the fortune of war seemed to incline in his favor. In the
course of the day Decius was killed, and the whole command of the
Roman army then devolved upon Sulpicius, his colleague. Pyrrhus
himself was seriously wounded. When, at last, the sun went down, and
the approaching darkness of the night prevented a continuance of the
combat, both parties drew off such as remained alive of their
respective armies, leaving the field covered with the dead and dying.
One of Pyrrhus's generals congratulated him on his victory. "Yes,"
said Pyrrhus; "another such victory, and I shall be undone."
In fact, after trying their strength against each other in this
battle, neither party seemed to be in haste to bring on another
contest. They both drew away to places of security, and began to
send for re-enforcements, and to take measures to strengthen
themselves for future operations. They remained in this state of
inaction until at length the season passed away, and they then went
into winter-quarters, each watching the other, but postponing, by
common consent, all active hostilities until spring. In the spring
they took the field again, and the two armies approached each other
once more. The Roman army had now two new commanders, one of whom
was the celebrated Fabricius, whom Pyrrhus had negotiated with on
former occasions. The two commanders were thus well acquainted with
each other; and though, as public men, they were enemies, in private
and personally they were very good friends.
Pyrrhus had a physician in his service named Nicias. This man
conceived the design of offering to the Romans to poison his master
on condition of receiving a suitable reward. He accordingly wrote a
letter to Fabricius making the proposal. Fabricius immediately
communicated the letter to his colleague, and they both concurred in
the decision to inform Pyrrhus himself of the offer which had been
made them, and put him on his guard against the domestic traitor. They
accordingly sent him the letter which they had received, accompanied
by one from themselves, of the following tenor:
"Caius Fabricius and Quintus AEmilius to King Pyrrhus,
greeting:
"You seem to be as unfortunate in the choice of your friends
as you are in that of your enemies. The letter which we send
herewith will satisfy you that those around you, on whom you
rely, are wholly unworthy of your confidence. You are
betrayed; your very physician, the man who ought to be most
faithful to you, offers to poison you. We give you this
information, not out of any particular friendship for you,
but because we do not wish to be suspected of conniving at an
assassination--a crime which we detest and abhor. Besides, we
do not wish to be deprived of the opportunity of showing the
world that we are able to meet and conquer you in open war."
Pyrrhus was very much struck with what he considered the extraordinary
generosity of his enemies. He immediately collected together all the
prisoners that he had taken from the Romans, and sent them home to the
Roman camp, as a token of acknowledgment and gratitude on his part for
the high and honorable course of action which his adversaries had
adopted. They, however, Roman-like, would not accept such a token
without making a corresponding return, and they accordingly sent home
to Pyrrhus a body of Greek prisoners equal in number and rank to those
whom Pyrrhus had set free.
All these things tended to increase the disinclination of Pyrrhus to
press the further prosecution of the war. He became more and more
desirous every day to make peace with the Romans, preferring very much
that such a people should be his allies rather than his enemies. They,
however, firmly and pertinaciously refused to treat with him on any
terms, unless, as a preliminary step, he would go back to his own
dominions. This he thought he could not do with honor. He was
accordingly much perplexed, and began earnestly to wish that something
would occur to furnish him with a plausible pretext for retiring from
Italy.