History of Rome, books 1-10

However, the first introduction of plays, though intended as a means of religious expiation, did not relieve the mind from religious terrors nor the body from the inroads of disease.

Owing to an inundation of the Tiber, the Circus was flooded in the middle of the Games, and this produced an unspeakable dread; it seemed as though the gods had turned their faces from men and despised all that was done to propitiate their wrath.

C. Genucius and L. Aemilius Mamercus were the new consuls, each for the second time. The fruitless search for effective means of propitiation was affecting the minds of the people more than disease was affecting

their bodies. It is said to have been discovered that the older men remembered that a pestilence had once been assuaged by the Dictator driving in a nail. The senate believed this to be a religious obligation, and ordered a Dictator to be nominated for

that purpose. L. Manlius Imperiosus was nominated, and he appointed L. Pinarius as his Master of the Horse. There is an ancient instruction written in archaic letters which runs: Let him who is the praetor maximus fasten a nail on the Ides of September. This notice was fastened up on the right side of the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, next to the chapel

of Minerva. This nail is said to have marked the number of the year —written records being scarce in those days —and was for that reason placed under the protection of Minerva because she was the inventor

of numbers. Cincius, a careful student of monuments of this kind, asserts that at Volsinii also nails were fastened in the temple of Nortia, an Etruscan goddess, to indicate the number of

the year. It was in accordance with this direction that the consul Horatius dedicated the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus in the year following the expulsion of the kings; from the consuls the ceremony of fastening the nails passed to the Dictators, because they possessed greater authority. As the custom had been subsequently dropped, it was felt to be of sufficient importance to require the appointment of a Dictator.

L. Manlius was accordingly nominated, but, regarding his appointment as due to political rather than to religious reasons and eager to command in the war with the Hernici, he caused a very angry feeling among the men liable to serve by the inconsiderate way in which he conducted the enrolment. At last, in consequence of the unanimous resistance offered by the tribunes of the plebs, he gave way, either voluntarily or through compulsion, and laid down his Dictatorship.

. —This did not, however, prevent his impeachment the following year, when Q. Servilius Ahala and L. Genucius were consuls, the prosecutor being M. Pomponius, one of the tribunes of the plebs. He had incurred universal hatred through the unfeeling severity with which he had carried out the enlistment; the citizens had not only been fined, but subjected to personal ill-treatment, some scourged and others imprisoned because they had not answered to their names.

But what men most loathed was his brutal temperament, and the epithet “Imperiosus” (masterful) which had been fastened on him from his unblushing cruelty, an epithet utterly repugnant to a free State. The effects of his cruelty were felt quite as much by his nearest kindred, by his own blood as by strangers. Amongst other charges which the tribune brought against him was his treatment of his young son. It was alleged that although guilty of no offence he had banished him from the City, from his home and household gods, had forbidden him to appear in public in the Forum or to associate with those of his own age, and had consigned him to servile work, almost to the imprisonment of a workshop.

Here the youth, of high birth, the son of a Dictator, was to learn by daily suffering how rightly his father was called “Imperiosus.” And for what offence? Simply because he was lacking in eloquence, in readiness of speech! Ought not this natural defect to have been helped and remedied by the father, if there were a spark of humanity in him, instead of being punished and branded by persecution? Not even do brute beasts show less care and protection to their offspring if they happen to be sickly or deformed.

But L. Manlius actually aggravated his son's misfortune by fresh misfortunes, and increased his natural dullness and quenched any faint glimmerings of ability which he might have shown by the clodhopper's life to which he was condemned and the boorish bringing up amongst cattle to which he had to submit. The youth himself was the last to be exasperated by these accusations brought against his father. On the contrary, he was so indignant at finding himself made the ground of the charges against his father and the deep resentment they created that he was determined to let gods and men see that he preferred standing by his father to helping his enemies.

He formed a project which, though natural to an ignorant rustic and no precedent for an ordinary citizen to follow, still afforded a laudable example of filial affection. Arming himself with a knife, he went off early in the morning, without any one's knowledge, to the City, and once inside the gates proceeded straight to the house of M. Pomponius. He informed the porter that it was necessary for him to see his master at once, and announced himself as T. Manlius, the son of Lucius. Pomponius imagined that he was either bringing some matter for a fresh charge, to revenge himself on his father, or was going to offer some advice as to the management of the prosecution.

After mutual salutations, he informed Pomponius that he wished the business in hand to be transacted in the absence of witnesses. After all present had been ordered to withdraw, he grasped his knife and standing over the tribune's bed and pointing the weapon towards him, threatened to plunge it into him at once unless he took the oath which he was going to dictate to him, “That he would never hold an Assembly of the plebs for the prosecution of his father.” The tribune was terrified, for he saw the steel glittering before his eyes, while he was alone and defenceless, in the presence of a youth of exceptional strength, and what was worse, prepared to use that strength with savage ferocity. He took the required oath and publicly announced that, yielding to violence, he had abandoned his original purpose.

The plebs would certainly have been glad of the opportunity of passing sentence on such an insolent and cruel offender, but they were not displeased at the son's daring deed in defence of his parent, which was all the more meritorious because it showed that his father's brutality had not in any way weakened his natural affection and sense of duty. Not only was the prosecution of the father dropped, but the incident proved the means of distinction for the son. That year, for the first time, the military tribunes were elected by the popular vote; previously they had been nominated by the commander-in-chief, as is the case now with those who are called Rufuli. This youth obtained the second out of six places, though he had done nothing at home or in the field to make him popular, having passed his youth in the country far from city life.

In this year, owing either to an earthquake or the action of some other force, the middle of the Forum fell in to an immense depth, presenting the appearance of an enormous cavern.

Though all worked their hardest at throwing earth in, they were unable to fill up the

gulf, until at the bidding of the gods inquiry was made as to what that was in which the strength of Rome lay.

For this, the seers declared, must be sacrificed on that spot if men wished the Roman republic to be eternal. The story goes on that M. Curtius, a youth distinguished in war, indignantly asked those who were in doubt what

answer to give, whether anything that Rome possessed was more precious than the arms and valour of her sons.

As those around stood silent, he looked up to the Capitol and to the temples of the immortal gods which looked down on the Forum, and stretching out his hands first towards heaven and then to the yawning chasm beneath, devoted himself to the gods below.

Then mounting his horse, which had been caparisoned as magnificently as possible, he leaped in full armour into the cavern. Gifts and offerings of fruits of the earth were flung in after him by crowds of men and women.

It was from this incident that the designation “The Curtian Gulf” originated, and not from that old-world soldier of Titius Tatius, Curtius Mettius.

If any path would lead an inquirer to the truth, we should not shrink from the labour of investigation; as it is, on a matter where antiquity makes certainty impossible we must adhere to the legend which supplies the more famous derivation of the name.

After this appalling portent had been duly expiated, the deliberations of the senate were concerned with the Hernici.

The mission of the Fetials who had been sent to demand satisfaction proved to be fruitless; the senate accordingiy decided to submit to the people at the earliest possible day the question of declaring war against the Hernici.

The people in a crowded Assembly voted for war. Its conduct fell by lot to L. Genucius.

As he was the first plebeian consul to manage a war under his own auspices the State awaited the issue with keen interest, prepared to look

upon the policy of admitting plebeians to the highest offices of state as wise or unwise according to the way matters turned out.

As chance would have it, Genucius, whilst making a vigorous attack upon the enemy, fell into an ambush, the legions were taken by surprise and routed, and the consul was surrounded and killed without the enemy being aware who their victim was.

When the report of the occurrence reached Rome, the patricians were not so much distressed at the disaster which had befallen the commonwealth as they were exultant over the unfortunate generalship of the consul. Everywhere they were taunting the plebeians: “Go on!

Elect your consuls from the plebs, transfer the auspices to those for whom it is an impiety to possess them!

The voice of the plebs may expel the patricians from their rightful honours, but has your law, which pollutes the auspices, any force against the immortal gods?

They have themselves vindicated their will as expressed through the auspices, for no sooner have these been profaned by one who took them against divine and human law than the army and its general have been wiped out as a lesson to you not to conduct the elections to the confusion of all the rights of the patrician houses.”

The Senate-house and the Forum alike were resounding with these protests. Appius Claudius, who had led the opposition to the law, spoke with more weight than ever while he denounced the result of a

policy which he had severely censured, and the consul Servilius, with the unanimous approval of the patricians, nominated him Dictator. Orders were issued for an immediate enrolment and the suspension of all business.

After Genucius had fallen, C. Sulpicius had assumed the command, and before the arrival of the Dictator and the newlyraised legions, he distinguished himself by a smart action.

The death of the consul had led the Hernici to think very lightly of the Roman arms, and they surrounded the Roman camp fully expecting to carry it by assault. The defenders, encouraged by their general and burning with rage and indignation at their recent defeat, made a sortie, and not only destroyed any hopes the Hernici had of forcing the entrenchment but created such disorder amongst them that they precipitately retreated.

By the arrival of the Dictator and the junction of the old and newly-raised legions, their strength was doubled. In the presence of the entire force, the Dictator commended Sulpicius and the men who had so gallantly defended the camp, and whilst he raised the courage of those who listened to the praise which they so well deserved, he at the same time made the rest all the keener to emulate them.

The enemy showed no less energy in preparing for a renewal of the struggle. Aware of the increase in the strength of their enemy, and animated by the thought of their recent victory, they called every man in the Hernican nation who could bear arms.

Eight cohorts were formed of four hundred men each, who had been carefully selected. These, the picked flower of their manhood, were full of hope and courage, and they were further encouraged by a decree which had been passed to allow them double pay. They were exempt from all fatigue duty, in order that they might devote themselves more than the rest of the troops to the one duty reserved for them-that of fighting.

In order to make their courage more conspicuous they occupied a special position in the fighting line. The Roman camp was separated from the Hernican by a plain two miles broad. In the middle of this plain, almost equally distant from both camps, the battle took place.

For some time neither side gained any advantage, though the Roman cavalry made frequent attempts to break the enemy's line.

When they found that the effect produced was much feebler than the efforts they made, they obtained the Dictator's permission to abandon their horses and fight on foot. They raised a loud cheer and commenced a novel kind of fighting by charging as infantry.

Their onset would have been irresistible had not the special cohorts of the enemy opposed them with a strength and courage equal to their own.

Then the struggle was kept up by the foremost men of each nation. Whatever losses the common chances of battle inflicted on each side were many times greater than could have been expected from their numbers. The rest of the soldiers stood like a crowd of spectators, leaving the fighting to their chiefs as if it were their special privilege, and placing all their hopes of victory on the courage of others. Many fell on both sides, still more were wounded.

At length the cavalry began to ask each other somewhat bitterly, “What was left for them to do if after failing to repulse the enemy when mounted they could make no impression on them whilst fighting on foot. What third mode of fighting were they looking for?

Why had they dashed forward so eagerly in front of the standards to fight in a position which was not their proper one?” Urged on by these mutual reproaches, they raised their battle shout again and pressed forward. Slowly they compelled the enemy to give ground, then they drove them back more rapidly, and at last fairly routed them.

It is not easy to say what gave the advantage where the two sides were so evenly matched, unless it be that the Fortune which ever watches over each nation had the power to raise and to depress their courage.

The Romans followed up the fleeing Hernici as far as their camp; but they abstained from attacking it, as it was late in the day. They offered sacrifices the next morning for a long time without obtaining any favourable omen, and this prevented the Dictator from giving the signal for attack before noon; the fight consequently went on into the night.

The next day they found the camp abandoned; the Hernici had fled and left some of their wounded behind. The people of Signium saw the main body of the fugitives streaming past their walls with their standards few and far between, and sallying out to attack them they scattered them in headlong flight over the fields.

The victory was anything but a bloodless one for the Romans; they lost a quarter of their whole force, and by no means the smallest loss fell on the cavalry, a considerable number of whom perished.

The consuls for the following year were C. Sulpicius and C. Licinius Calvus. They resumed operations against the Hernici, and invaded their territory, but did not find the enemy in the open. They attacked and captured Ferentinum, a Hernican city; but as they were returning home the Tiburtines closed their gates against them.

There had previously been numerous complaints made on both sides, but this last provocation finally decided the Romans, in case the Fetials failed to get redress, to declare war against the Tiburtines.

It is generally understood that T. Quinctius Pennus was the Dictator and Ser. Cornelius Maluginensis the Master of the horse. According to Licinius Macer, the Dictator was nominated by the consul Licinius.

His colleague, Sulpicius, was anxious to get the elections over before he departed for the war, in the hope of being himself re-elected, if he were on the spot, and Licinius determined to thwart his colleague's self-seeking ambition.

Licinius Macer's desire to appropriate the credit of this to his house (the Licinii) lessens the weight of his authority. As I find no mention of this in the older annalists, I am more inclined to believe that it was the prospect of a Gaulish war which was the immediate cause why a Dictator was nominated.

At all events it was in this year that the Gauls formed their camp by the Salarian road, three miles from the City at the bridge across the Anio. In face of this sudden and alarming inroad the Dictator proclaimed a suspension of all business, and made every man who was liable to serve take the military oath.

He marched out of the City with an immense army and fixed his camp on this side the Anio. Each side had left the bridge between them intact, as its destruction might have been thought due to fears of an attack.

There were frequent skirmishes for the possession of the bridge; as these were indecisive, the question was left unsettled. A Gaul of extraordinary stature strode forward on to the unoccupied bridge, and shouting as loudly as he could, cried: “Let the bravest man that Rome possesses come out and fight me, that we two may decide which people is the superior in war.”

A long silence followed. The best and bravest of the Romans made no sign;they felt ashamed of appearing to decline the challenge, and yet they were reluctant to expose themselves to such terrible danger.

Thereupon T. Manlius, the youth who had protected his father from the persecution of the tribune, left his post and went to the Dictator.“Without

your orders, General,” he said, “I will never leave my post to fight, no, not even if I saw that victory was certain ; but if you give me permission I want to show that monster as he stalks so proudly in front of their lines that I am a scion of that family which hurled the troop of Gauls from the Tarpeian rock.”

Then the Dictator: “Success to your courage, T. Manlius, and to your affection for your father and your fatherland . Go, and with the help of the gods show that the name of Rome is invincible.”

Then his comrades fastened on his armour; he took an infantry shield and a Spanish sword as better adapted for close fighting; thus armed and equipped they led him forward against the Gaul, who was exulting in his brute strength, and even —the ancients thought this worth recording —putting his tongue out in derision.

They retired to their posts and the two armed champions were left alone in the midst, more after the manner of a scene on the stage than under the conditions of serious war, and to those who judged by appearances, by no means equally matched.

The one was a creature of enormous bulk, resplendent in a many-coloured coat and wearing painted and gilded armour; the other a man of average height, and his arms, useful rather than ornamental, gave him quite an ordinary appearance. There was no singing of war-songs, no prancing about, no silly brandishing of

weapons. With a breast full of courage and silent wrath Manlius reserved all his ferocity for the actual moment of

conflict. When they had taken their stand between the two armies, while so many hearts around them were in suspense between hope and fear, the Gaul, like a great overhanging mass, held out his shield on his left arm to meet his adversary's blows and aimed a tremendous cut downwards with his

sword. The Roman evaded the blow, and pushing aside the bottom of the Gaul's shield with his own, he slipped under it close up to the Gaul, too near for him to get at him with his sword. Then turning the point of his blade upwards, he gave two rapid thrusts in succession and stabbed the Gaul in the belly and the groin, laying his enemy prostrate over a large extent of

ground. He left the body of his fallen foe undespoiled with the exception of his chain, which though smeared with blood he placed round his own

neck. Astonishment and fear kept the Gauls motionless; the Romans ran eagerly forward from their lines to meet their warrior, and amidst cheers and congratulations they conducted him to the

Dictator. In the doggerel verses which they extemporised in his honour they called him Torquatus (“adorned with a chain”), and this soubriquet became for his posterity a proud family

name. The Dictator gave him a golden crown, and before the whole army alluded to his victory in terms of the highest praise.

Strange to relate, that single combat had such a farreaching influence upon the whole war that the Gauls hastily abandoned their camp and moved off into the neighbourhood of Tibur. They formed an alliance offensive and defensive with that city, and the Tiburtines supplied them generously with provisions. After receiving this assistance they passed on into Campania.

This was the reason why in the following year the consul, C. Poetilius Balbus, led an army, by order of the people, against the Tiburtines, though the conduct of the war against the Hernici had fallen by lot to his colleague, M. Fabius Ambustus.

Though the Gauls had come back from Campania to their assistance, it was undoubtedly by the Tiburtine generals that the cruel depredations in the territories of Labici, Tusculum, and Alba were carried out. To act against the Tiburtines, the republic was content with a consul, but the sudden re-appearance of the Gauls required a Dictator.

Q. Servilius Ahala was nominated, and he selected T. Quinctius as Master of the Horse. On the authority of the senate, he made a vow to celebrate the Great Games, should the issue of the war prove favourable.