History of Rome, books 1-10

With what a vast crowd made up of every class, think you, did we start from the gates? How full of tears and prayers did we leave all behind. In what a state of expectancy are the senate and people of Capua, our wives and children, now living!

I am quite certain that the whole population is standing at the gates, watching the road which leads from here, in anxious suspense as to what reply you are ordering us to carry back to them.

The one answer will bring them safety, victory, light, and liberty; the other —I dare not say what that might bring. Deliberate then upon our fate, as that of men who are either going to be your friends and allies, or to have no existence anywhere.”

When the envoys had withdrawn, the senate proceeded to discuss the question. Many of the members realised how the largest and richest city in Italy, with a very productive country near the sea, could become the granary of Rome, and supply every variety of provision.

Notwithstanding, however, loyalty to treaties outweighed even these great advantages, and the consul was authorised by the senate to give the following reply: “The senate is of opinion, Campanians, that you are worthy of our aid, but justice demands that friendship with you shall be established on such a footing that no older friendship and alliance is thereby impaired. Therefore we refuse to employ on your behalf against the Samnites arms which would offend the gods sooner than they injured men. We shall, as is just and right, send an embassy to our allies and friends to ask that no hostile violence be offered you.”

Thereupon the leader of the embassy, acting according to the instructions they had brought with them, said: “Even though you are not willing to make a just use of force against brute force and injustice in defence of what belongs to us, you will at all events defend what belongs to you. Wherefore we now place under your sway and jurisdiction, senators, and that of the Roman people, the people of Campania and the city of Capua, its fields, its sacred temples, all things human and divine.

Henceforth we are prepared to suffer what we may have to suffer as men who have surrendered themselves into your hands.”

At these words they all burst into tears and stretching out their hands towards the consul they prostrated themselves on the floor of the vestibule.

The senators were deeply moved by this instance of the vicissitudes of human fortune, where a people abounding in wealth, famous for their pride and luxuriousness, and from whom, shortly before, their neighbours had sought assistance, were now so broken in spirit that they put themselves and all that belonged to them under the power and authority of others.

It at once became a matter of honour that men who had formally surrendered themselves should not be left to their fate, and it was resolved “that the Samnite nation would commit a wrongful act if they attacked a city and territory which had by surrender become the possession of Rome.”

They determined to lose no time in despatching envoys to the Samnites. Their instructions were to lay before them the request of the Campanians, the reply which the senate, mindful of their friendly relations with the Samnites, had given, and lastly the surrender which had been made.

They were to request the Samnites, in virtue of the friendship and alliance which existed between them, to spare those who had made a surrender of themselves and to take no hostile action against that territory which had become the possession of the Roman people.

If these mild remonstrances proved ineffective, they were to solemnly warn the Samnites in the name of the senate and people of Rome to keep their hands off the city of Capua and the territory of Campania.

The envoys delivered their instructions in the national council of Samnium. The reply they received was couched in such defiant terms that not only did the Samnites declare their intention of pursuing the war against Capua, but their magistrates went outside the council chamber and, in tones loud

enough for the envoys to bear, ordered the prefects of cohorts to march at once into the Campanian territory and ravage it.

When the result of this mission was reported in Rome, all other matters were at once laid aside and the fetials were sent to demand redress. This was refused and the senate decreed that a formal declaration of war should be submitted for the approval of the people as soon as possible.

The people ratified the action of the senate and ordered the two consuls to start, each with his army; Valerius for Campania, where he fixed his camp at Mount Glaurus, whilst Cornelius advanced into Samnium and encamped at Saticula. . —Valerius was the first to come into touch with the Samnite legions.

They had marched into Campania because they thought that this would be the main theatre of war, and they were burning to wreak their rage on the Campanians who had been so ready first to help others against them and then to summon help for themselves.

As soon as they saw the Roman camp, they one and all clamoured for the signal for battle to be given by their leaders; they declared that the Romans would have the same luck in helping the Campanians that the Campanians had had in helping the Sidicines.

For a few days Valerius confined himself to skirmishes, with the object of testing the enemy's strength.

At length he put out the signal for battle and spoke a few words of encouragement to his men. He told them not to let themselves be daunted by a new war or a new enemy, for the further they carried their arms from the City the more unwarlike were the nations whom they approached.

They were not to measure the courage of the Samnites by the defeats they had inflicted on the Sidicines and the Campanians; whenever two nations fought together, whatever the qualities they possessed, one side must necessarily be vanquished.

There was no doubt that as far as the Campanians were concerned they owed their defeats more to their want of hardihood and the weakening effects of excessive luxury than to the strength of their enemies. What could two successful wars an the part of the Samnites through all those centuries weigh against the many brilliant achievements at the Roman people,

who reckoned up almost more triumphs than years since the foundation of their City, who had subdued by the might at their arms all the surrounding nations —Sabines, Etruscans, Latins, Hernici, Aequi, Volscians, and Auruncans —who had slain the Gauls in so many battles and driven them at last to their ships?

His men must not only go into action in full reliance upon their own courage and warlike reputation, but they must also remember under whose auspices and generalship they were going to fight, whether under a man who is only

to be listened to provided he is a big talker, courageous only in words, ignorant of a soldier's work, or under one who himself knows how to handle weapons, who can show himself in the front, and do his duty in the melee at battle.

“I want you, soldiers,” he continued, “to follow my deeds not my words, and to look to me not only for the word at command but also for example. It was not by party struggles nor by the intrigues so common amongst the nobles but by my own right hand that I won three consulships and attained the highest reputation.

There was a time when it might have been said to me, “Yes, for you were a patrician descended from the liberators at our country, and your family held the consulship in the very year when this City first possessed consuls.”

Now, however, the consulship is open to you, plebeians, as much as to us who are patricians; it is not the reward of high birth as it once was, but of personal merit. Look forward then, soldiers, to securing all the highest honours!

If with the sanction of the gods you men have given me this new name at Corvinus, I have not forgotten the old cognomen of our family; I have not forgotten that I am a Publicola.

I always study and always have studied the interests of the Roman plebs, both at home and in the field, whether as a private citizen or holding public office, whether as military tribune or as consul. I have been consistent to this aim in all my successive consulships.

And now for what is immediately before us: go on with the help at heaven, and win with me for the first time a triumph over your new foes —the Samnites.”

Nowhere was there ever a general who endeared himself more to his soldiers by cheerfully sharing every duty with the humblest

of his men In the military sports when the soldiers got up contests of speed and strength among themselves he was equally ready to win or to lose, and never thought any man unworthy to be his antagonist.

He showed practical kindness as circumstances required; in his language he was not less mindful of other men's liberty than of his own dignity, and what made him most popular was that he displayed the same qualities in discharging the duties of his office which he had shown as a candidate for it.

Following up their commander's words, the whole army marched out of camp with extraordinary alacrity.

In no battle that was ever fought did men engage with strength more equally matched, or more assured hopes of victory on both sides, or a stronger spirit of self-confidence unaccompanied, however, by any feeling of contempt for their opponents.

The fighting temper of the Samnites was roused by their recent achievements and the double victory won a few days previously; the Romans on the other hand were inspired by their glorious record of four centuries of victory reaching back to the foundation of the City.

But each side felt some anxiety at meeting a new and untried foe.

The battle was an index to their feelings; for some time they fought so resolutely that neither line showed any signs of giving way.

At length the consul, seeing that the Samnites could not be repulsed by steady fighting, determined to try the effect of a sudden shock and launched his cavalry at them. This made no impression, and as he watched them wheeling round in the narrow space between the opposing armies after their ineffective charge, having utterly failed to penetrate the enemy's line, he rode back to the front ranks of the legions, and after dismounting said: “Soldiers, this task belongs to us infantry.

Come on! Wherever you see me making my way through the enemy's lines with my sword follow, and each of you do his best to cut down those in front.

All that ground which is now glittering with uplifted spears you shall see cleared by a vast carnage.” During those words the cavalry, at the consul's order, retired an both flanks, leaving the centre clear for the legions. The consul led the charge, and slew the first man he engaged with.

Fired at the sight, every man, right and left, charged straight forward and began a fight to be remembered. The Samnites did not flinch, though they were receiving more wounds than they inflicted.

The battle had now gone on for a considerable time; there was a terrible slaughter round the Samnite standards but no signs of flight anywhere, so resolved were they that death alone should be their conqueror.

The Romans began to find their strength failing through fatigue and not much daylight remained, so goaded on by rage and disappointment they flung themselves madly upon their foe.

Then for the first time the Samnites were seen to be giving ground and preparing to flee; they were being taken prisoners and killed in all directions, and not many would have survived had not night put an end to what was becoming a victory rather than a battle.

The Romans admitted that they had never fought with a more obstinate enemy, and when the Samnites were asked what it was that first turned them, with all their determination, to flight, they said that the eyes of the Romans looked like fire, and their faces and expression like those of madmen;

it was this more than anything else which filled them with terror. This terror showed itself not only in the result of the battle but also in their hurrying away in the night.

The next day the Romans took possession of their empty camp, and all the population of Capua came out there to congratulate them.

But these rejoicings were very nearly being embittered by a great disaster in Samnium. The consul Cornelius had advanced from Saticula and led his army by a mountain pass which descended into a narrow valley.

All the surrounding heights were occupied by the enemy, and he did not notice them high up above him till retreat was impossible.

The Samnites were waiting quietly till the whole of the column should descend into the lowest part of the valley, but meantime P. Decius, a military tribune, descried a peak jutting out on the pass which commanded the enemy's camp. This height would have been a difficult one for a heavy-armed force to climb but not for one in light marching order.

Decius came up to the consul, who was in a great state of alarm, and said to him: “Do you see, A. Cornelius, that height above the enemy?

If we promptly seize that position which the Samnites were blind enough to leave unoccupied, it will prove a stronghold in which all our hopes of safety will centre. Do not give me more than the hastati and principes of one legion. When I have reached the summit with them you may march on out of this and save yourself and the army, for the enemy below, a mark for every missile we hurl, will not be able to move without being destroyed.

Either the Fortune of Rome or our own courage will then clear the way for our escape.”

The consul warmly thanked him, and after being furnished with the detachment he asked for, he marched through the pass unobserved and only came into view of the enemy when he was close to the spot for which he was making.

Then whilst every eye was fixed upon him in silent astonishment, he gave the consul time to withdraw his army into a more favourable position until he had halted his own men on the summit.

The Samnites marched aimlessly hither and thither; they could not follow the consul except by the same path where he had been exposed to their weapons and which was now equally dangerous to them, nor could they lead a force up the hill above them which Decius had seized.

He and his men had snatched victory from their grasp, and therefore it was against him that their rage was mainly directed, whilst the nearness of the position and the paucity of its defenders were additional incentives to them to attack it.

First they were bent upon investing the peaks on all sides so as to cut Decius off from the consul, then they thought of retiring and leaving the way open for him so that they could attack when he had descended into the valley.

Whilst they were still in this state of indecision night overtook them. At first Decius hoped to be able to attack them from his higher ground while they were coming up the height; then he began to wonder why they did not show fight, or, at all events, if they were deterred by the nature of the ground why they did not enclose him with a circumvallation.

He called the centurions round him. “What ignorance, what cowardice this is!” he exclaimed. “How on earth did those men win a victory over the Sidicines and Campanians? You see them there marching up and down, at one time forming up in close order, at another extending. We could by this time have been completely invested yet no one begins to entrench.

We shall be like them if we stay here longer than we need. Come along with me and let us reconnoitre their positions while some light is still left and find out where the exit from here is open.”

Disguised in a common soldier's cloak that the enemy might not mark the general going his rounds, and with his centurion similarly attired, he made a thorough examination of all these details.

After arranging the watches, he ordered the tessera to be given to the rest of the troops; when the bugle sounded for the second watch they were to muster round him

in silence. When they had assembled in accordance with instructions, he said: “This silence, soldiers, must be maintained, and all applause as you listen to me checked. When I have laid my proposals fully before you, those of you who approve will cross over silently to the right. The opinion of the majority will be adopted. Now listen to

my plans. You were not carried here in flight, nor have you been abandoned through cowardice, and the enemy are investing you. You seized this position by your courage, by your courage you must get away from it. By coming here you have saved a splendid army for Rome, now you must save yourselves by cutting your

way out. Though few in number you have brought aid to many, and it is only fitting to your deserts that you yourselves should need the aid

of none. We have to do with an enemy who through his slackness yesterday failed to use the chance which Fortune gave him of wiping out an entire army; who did not perceive this most useful peak hanging over his head until it had been seized

by us. With all their thousands of men they did not prevent us, few as we are, from climbing it, and now that we are holding it, did they, though plenty of daylight remained, enclose us with lines of circumvallation? The enemy whom you eluded while his eyes were open, and he was on the watch, you certainly ought to evade when he is heavy

with sleep. In fact, it is absolutely necessary for you to do so, for our position is such that I have rather to point out the necessity in which you are placed than to suggest any plan

of action. For there can be no question as to your remaining here or departing, since Fortune has left you nothing but your arms and the courage which knows how to use them. If we show more fear of the sword than becomes men and Romans we shall have to die of hunger

and thirst. Our one chance of safety, then, lies in our breaking our way through and departing. We must do that either in the daytime or

at night. But this is a point which admits of little doubt; if we wait for daylight how can we hope that the enemy, who, as you see, has drawn a ring of men all round us, will not completely enclose us with entrenchments? On the other hand, if night be best for our sortie, as it most certainly is, then this hour of the night is most assuredly

the fittest. You have mustered at the call for the second watch, an hour when men are buried in sleep. You will pass through them in silence, unnoticed by the sleepers, but should they become aware of your presence you will throw them into a panic by a

sudden shout. You have followed me so far, follow me still, while I follow Fortune who has guided us here Those of you who think this a safe plan step forward and pass over to the right.”

All Crossed over. They there followed Decius as he moved through the intervals between the pickets.

They had already got as far as the centre of the Samnite lines when a soldier striding over the bodies of the sleeping sentinels made a noise by striking his shield against one of them. The sentinel awakened by the sound shook the one next him; they both jumped up and aroused others, not knowing whether friends or foes were amongst them, whether it was Decius' force breaking out or the consul capturing the camp.

As they were no longer unobserved, Decius ordered his men to raise a shout, which paralysed the half-awakened sleepers with terror.

In their confusion they were unable to seize their arms promptly and could neither offer any resistance nor follow up their assailants.

While the Samnites were in this state of confusion and panic, the Romans, cutting down all who opposed them, made their way in the direction of the consul's camp. A considerable portion of the night still remained and they were evidently now in safety. Decius addressed them: “All honour to you, brave Romans!

Your march up that height and your return will be extolled in every age But for the due recognition of such courage the light of day is needed; you have deserved something more than to carry your glory back to camp hidden in the silence of the night.

We will rest here and wait for the daylight.” They rested accordingly. As soon as it was light and the news was sent on to the consul in camp, there was great excitement and rejoicing, and where it was officially announced throughout the camp that the men who saved the army at the risk of their own lives had themselves returned safe and sound, they all poured out in crowds to meet them, showered congratulations upon them, gave thanks and praise to the gods, and extolled Decius to the skies.

He marched through the camp in what amounted to a triumphal procession with his small force fully armed. Every eye was fixed upon him; the military tribune was treated with as much distinction as if he had been a consul.

When he reached the headquarters' tent, the consul ordered the Assembly to be sounded.

He was beginning to give Decius the praise he had so well earned, before the whole army, when Decius interrupted him and begged him to postpone those proceedings in view of the splendid opportunity which they now had in their hands.

He accordingly dismissed the parade and followed Decius' advice, which was to attack the enemy before they had recovered from their nocturnal panic and were still stationed round the height in separate detachments; some who had been sent in pursuit were believed to be still defiling through the pass.