DESTRUCTION OF THE SENONIAN GAULS. C. FABRICIUS LUSCINUS. WAR WITH TARENTUM. PYRRHUS OF EPIRUS. EVENTS IN SICILY DOWN TO THE FIRST PUNIC WAR.
According to Zonaras, it was the Tarentines who stirred up the peoples far and near against the Romans; first the Lucanians, then the Etruscans, and even the deeply humbled Samnites: the Greek towns were no longer the closest friends of the people of Tarentum; the latter looked to their own political advantage, and were ready to leave them to the mercy of the Lucanians and Bruttians. Either after the third, or even after the second Samnite war, a peace was concluded between the Romans and the Tarentines: in 451, or 452, they already seem to be friends; the Greek writers also speak of it as a treaty of long standing. They seem on both sides to have checked each other by sea; for the Romans bound themselves not to appear with any ship of war north of the Lacinian headland in the gulf of Tarentum, whilst the Tarentines may have made a similar promise.
An unprejudiced observer must have seen from the issue of the third Samnite war, that the fate of Italy was decided; and the Italian people ought to have hastened to unite themselves with Rome on the most favourable terms which they could get. But men’s passions have no such wisdom, and they are always looking for some Deus ex machina, who is to change everything. One people after another joined the ranks of the enemies of Rome. The Lucanians, who were allied with them during the third Samnite war, availed themselves of their independence to act according to their own liking, and to reduce the Greek towns to subjection. The Bruttians likewise became leagued with the enemies of the Romans; the Greek towns, on the other hand, having been abandoned by the Tarentines, sought their aid. The Etruscans, disunited among themselves, still continued to be ever alternating between peace and war: the Vulsinians alone seem to have carried on uninterrupted war. The strength of the Samnites was quite broken; yet they tried to rally, so as again to take up arms, as soon as it could be done with any hope of success: for the present, they kept aloof, and gave the Romans no occasion for hostilities. The Tarentines tried to stir up even the Gauls, doing every thing all the while by means of subsidies only: they themselves did nothing openly, and to all appearance the good understanding was kept up. The great distress at home must have obliged the Romans to dissemble; we merely know that, true to their system of supporting the weak against the strong, they gave to the Thurinians their help against the Lucanians. On this occasion, we meet with the first instance of a Greek town having raised a statue to a Roman.[157] Rome’s support saved the Thurinians.
In Etruria, the war now took a different turn. The Etruscans seem to have been so divided among themselves, that the war party called in the Gauls to join with them in fighting against their opponents. Arretium in the north-eastern corner of Tuscany, thus exposed to the Gauls, being governed by the Cilnii, and on friendly terms with Rome, was besieged by the barbarians. In 469 (according to Cato, in whose system the birth of Christ is to be placed in 752, not in 754), the Romans sent to the relief of Arretium the prætor L. Cæcilius Metellus and two legions with auxiliaries, in all, about 20,000 men. But the Senonian Gauls, though they dwelt on the other side of the Alps, over which there was no way, broke through, and defeated Metellus, who himself was left dead on the field of battle, and eleven thousand Romans with him: the whole of his force seems to have been utterly destroyed. Curius was now sent with an army into Etruria, and envoys were also despatched to the Senonians, to ransom the prisoners. The Senonians, however, still harboured vengeance on account of the battle of Sentinum, and Britomaris, a young chieftain whose father had been killed there, instigated them to murder the ambassadors. On this, the Romans determined at all hazards to take revenge; and the consul, P. Cornelius Dolabella, instead of attacking the army of the Gauls, who were perhaps already dreaming of a new conquest of Rome, adopted the plan of falling upon the deserted country of the Senonians, where he partly destroyed the population, and partly carried it away captive. The army of the Senonians, maddened at the tidings of this disaster, returned home, and was entirely routed: it is hardly an exaggeration to say, that the whole of the nation was exterminated. The Boians now crossed the mountains, joined the Etruscans, and met with a defeat near the lake Vadimo; yet the Romans did not set foot on their territory, which reached from the river Trebia to the Romagna. In the following year, all the fighting men of this tribe came forth again, but with no greater success; the nation, however, was not annihilated: the women and children had stayed behind, and so it regenerated itself. It was not until fifty years later, that the extermination took place. The Gallic migrations from henceforth were no more turned against Italy, but against Thrace and Macedon. How matters went on in Etruria, and what Etruscan towns made their submission, the wretched history of that period leaves quite untold.
All the time that these dreadful wars were waging on the northern frontier, at home in the city, everything was quiet in consequence of the peace of the Janiculum and Æsquiletum; but in Lucania, the Romans carried on their wars without interruption. In this war, C. Fabricius Luscinus is mentioned for the first time. The old heroes were still living: Valerius Corvus, who was now an old man, full of days, no longer plays any active part; Ap. Claudius was blind, but had very great influence still; Fabius in all likelihood was dead. Younger than Appius, but older than Fabricius, was the great warrior M’. Curius Dentatus, who in his politics was a staunch democrat, but yet no demagogue. Curius and Fabricius are remarkable men, and in some respects they are like each other. Of both of them it is certain that they were really poor; both were proud characters; both of them novi homines, risen by their greatness in war, and by their personal worth. Fabricius has in all ages been quoted as a pattern of public virtue. Besides these two men, there were on the other side also some eminent personages: L. Postumius, who indeed was also a man of energy, but not so noble as he; P. Cornelius Rufinus, as covetous as Fabricius was disinterested, whom moreover Fabricius and his colleague Q. Æmilius Papus removed from the senate for his luxuriousness. And without them, Rome seems to have abounded in remarkable people: it may likewise have already stood high in an intellectual proficiency of its own, far above that of the most celebrated times of the middle ages, and perhaps also in literature.
Another great man, great as a wise statesman, though he left behind him no distinct memorial in the state, was Ti. Coruncanius, the first plebeian Pontifex maximus, who enjoyed the reputation of profound wisdom and knowledge of law. He was always looked upon as the pattern of a pontiff.
The Romans now became more and more aware of how matters stood between them and the people of Tarentum. The peace only lasted because other countries separated them. The wealth of the Tarentines, their naval power, and the ease with which they were able to enlist Greek armies, made the Romans very unwilling to go to war with them. When, however, the troops engaged in Lucania were surrounded on all sides by guerillas, Rome was obliged to send them their supplies by sea, notwithstanding the treaty concluded about twenty years before, which had imposed mutual limits upon that element. The Romans must under actual circumstances have found it unnatural: they might plead that at that time Venusia was not yet theirs; and that by founding this colony, they had tacitly acquired the right of sailing beyond the Lacinian headland. It seems, however, that they also wished to try how long the Tarentines would wait before they made war. This is what is more likely; for according to a notice from a lost book of Livy, which Zonaras confirms, the Tarentines endeavoured to call into life a great coalition against the Romans, with which even the expedition of the Gauls against Arretium is said to have already been connected. Certain it is, that they wished for one; but each single people came but slowly into it. The Romans sent a squadron of ten triremes under the duumvir navalis,[158] L. Valerius, to the roadstead of Tarentum. All the Greek theatres had, if possible, a view of the sea, or at least they faced it; thus it is at Tusculum, and even at Fæsulæ: in these the people assembled, as at Rome in the forum. Among the Greeks, it was less customary to meet together in the ἀγορά, which was a mere place of business: they felt more comfortable in the theatres where they could sit down. These were open every day, and if any one had something to say to the people, he got up upon the stage and spoke from thence. Unhappily for Tarentum, the people was just assembled in the theatre, when the Roman ships steered towards the harbour: had it not been there, the history of the world would have taken another turn; the στρατηγοί would most likely have requested the Romans to go back, and nothing would have followed from the expedition. The people excited one another, and without even coming to any resolution, they all of them ran down to the harbour, pulled the galleys into the water, manned them, and fell upon the Romans without the least warning: two or three ships only saved themselves; most of them were sunk, Valerius himself was killed. Almost all the Tarentines, who had never before seen a Roman army, were now exulting in their victory.
In Rome, this event gave rise to great dismay. They knew there that the whole of Italy was fermenting, and they saw for certain that the Tarentines relied upon a general outbreak; we find distinct traces which show, that not even the Latin people was trusted; the Prænestines, especially, were again ripe for a rising. For this reason, it was a very critical affair for the Romans. Instead of declaring war, they sent an embassy to the Tarentines, to protest in the face of the whole world; so that every one might see that vengeance was only delayed, and not given up. Delegates were also sent to some of the allies north of Tarentum, partly to keep them in their faith, and partly to demand hostages. Among these was C. Fabricius, who, in violation of the law of nations, was arrested, as it seems, by the Samnites. At Rome the greatest exertions were now made: they wished to overawe the enemy, without having at once to begin the war. At the head of an embassy to Tarentum was L. Postumius. A reckless, excitable, giddy people, as the Tarentines were, must have felt their courage rising, when the hated Romans showed themselves frightened; L. Postumius did not gain any thing by his demand that the Tarentines should give up the guilty parties, and indeed the Romans could hardly have expected it. Unfortunately, it was the time of the Dionysia, the feast of the vintage. The ambassadors in democratical Tarentum were not brought before the senate, but before the people, in the orchestra; here they had to speak from below to those above them, instead of haranguing, as they were wont, from a raised platform: this was of itself quite enough to make them feel embarrassed and fidgetty. The whole town was intoxicated; drunken sots and impudent fellows laughed at every blunder which the ambassadors made in speaking Greek: one of them even went so far as to befoul the toga prætexta of Postumius. He did not lose his self-command, but showed the Tarentines the abominable insult which had been done to him, and loudly complained of it. At this sight, the drunken populace broke out into a much more violent laughter. Then Postumius, shaking his garment, said, I prophesy, ye people of Tarentum, that ye shall wash out this stain with your heart’s best blood.
The ambassadors returned without the satisfaction which they had demanded, without even an answer; and they insisted in the Roman senate upon immediate vengeance. But many senators advised caution, and were for waiting until more favourable circumstances presented themselves; the people also, which was labouring under great distress, was at that time against the war, and thus, when it was first proposed, the measure was thrown out. Fresh negotiations, backed by an army, were to be set on foot. Afterwards, however, it was resolved notwithstanding, to send the army to the frontiers of Tarentum, the consul L. Æmilius Barbula having instructions, when on his march through Lucania, also to attack Tarentum. In that city likewise, there were two parties, one of them mad for war, and the other prudent; the former were aware that the only way of carrying on the war was by calling over into their country a foreign prince, and this could be no other than Pyrrhus of Epirus, who kept a standing army. But then it was to be foreseen, that Pyrrhus, if victorious, would make himself king of Italy, as he was much more powerful than Alexander of Epirus. The aristocracy at Tarentum wished for a union with Rome, that they might bridle the unruly populace; but those who were in power had so lost all common sense, that instead of protecting, as heretofore, the Italiote towns, they made common cause with the Lucanians, and, giving warning to Thurii, an open colony of the whole of Greece, that their protection was withdrawn, they left it to the mercy of its foes. This venerable town, distinguished for its great men, was now taken and sacked by the Lucanians: the Romans conquered it at a later period, but it never recovered. When Barbula appeared before Tarentum, peace would perhaps have been concluded, had not the Tarentines already entered into negotiations with Pyrrhus. These had not yet led to any definitive result, when the Romans, laying every thing waste before them, arrived before Tarentum. On this a proxenus of the Romans, Agis, offered himself for the office of στρατηγός, that he might mediate; but just as he was about to undertake the task, the news came that Pyrrhus had accepted the terms proposed to him. Agis was dismissed, and the war began.
Pyrrhus was at that time in his thirty-seventh year, the very prime of life; none of his contemporaries in an age in which neither night nor property was sure, had seen so many vicissitudes as he. For an able man, the finest thing on earth is a career of activity and strife. That which he himself has won, a man may well call his own; to enter quietly into a settled possession, is what any one can do. But action may also be overstrained, so that a person may lose all power of calmly enjoying what he has. Such characters are Charles XII. and Pyrrhus, men who, when they happen to be on the throne, are disastrous to their subjects, and dangerous to their neighbours.
In the Peloponnesian war, the kingdom of the Molossians had been first raised from its insignificance by Tharyps, who had been brought up at Athens. The princely race of the Molossians branched from Philip into two lines, that of Arymbas, and that of Neoptolemus, the father of Olympias. This younger branch, by the influence of Macedon, came into the possession of the throne. By Philip the country had been enlarged in favour of the relations of his wife; Thesprotia and Chaonia seem already to have belonged to it. Afterwards Æacidas, the father of Pyrrhus, of the elder branch, obtained the crown. The lawful power of these Epirote kings, like that of the sovereigns in the middle ages, was very much bounded. Aristotle compares them to the kings of Lacedæmon; but the following of soldiers which they had, was by no means always inconsiderable: tempted by this power, Æacidas, contrary to the general wish of his subjects, meddled in a great many matters. He had attached himself to Olympias, although he had formerly been driven out of his kingdom by the usurpation of his cousin Alexander of Epirus, and he had with singular generosity identified himself with the fate of that fury: by this he incurred the enmity of Cassander, who co-operated in expelling him from Epirus. At that time, Pyrrhus was two years old. Cassander wanted to exterminate the whole family, and it was with the utmost difficulty that the child was saved by faithful servants. He was brought up by Glaucias, the prince of the Taulantians, although the latter had been on terms of enmity with Æacidas. Glaucias grew so fond of the boy, that he did every thing in his power to protect him against Cassander. Pyrrhus was hardly grown up, when he went to the court of Demetrius Poliorcetes, and of old Antigonus, the One-eyed: in this school his extraordinary talent as a general was developed. Demetrius was indeed a great genius spoiled. Here Pyrrhus preserved his moral dignity amidst a most infamous crew. He was, by Demetrius, nominally restored as king of the Molossians; but according to the fashion of the age, he was the vassal of the greater king, and had to serve in his army, like the other petty princes of Epirus. He was with Demetrius and Antigonus in the battle near Ipsus Ol. 119, 4, in which the empire of Antigonus was overthrown, and himself killed: Pyrrhus was at that time sixteen years old. After this battle had been won by the allies, these began to quarrel; and the crafty Demetrius soon found an opportunity of making up with Ptolemy Soter, who, in dividing the spoil, had fallen out with his old friend Seleucus, with Cassander, whom he had ever hated, and likewise with Lysimachus to boot. Pyrrhus was sent to Alexandria to treat with Ptolemy, and was given as a hostage for the fulfilment of the conditions. He had something peculiarly fascinating about him: his wonderful talents were of the most varied kind, and Heaven had endowed him with the most enchanting amiability and beauty. These qualities he now used for his patron’s best advantage, as well as for his own. The Epirote towns were lost in the meanwhile, and his dominions had to all appearance fallen into the hands of Neoptolemus, a son of Alexander the Molossian. But Pyrrhus gained the favour of Ptolemy and Berenice, and was married to Antigone a daughter of Berenice by her first marriage. With the help of Ægyptian money, he was again put in possession of his throne; the attachment of the people soon rid him of his rival Neoptolemus, though for this he employed, it is true, a certain unjustifiable means, the like of which was so much in vogue during the sixteenth century. He now tried to settle himself, for which Fortune soon gave him an opportunity. Cassander died, and left sons behind him, who were enemies to each other: one of these yielded to Pyrrhus, in return for his protection, Ambracia, Amphilochia, and the Epirote provinces which had until now been united with Macedon. This was of the greatest importance to Pyrrhus: now, for the first time, Epirus deserved to be called a state. Pyrrhus indeed did help his ally; but the latter fell by his own fault, and Pyrrhus remained master of the provinces. Demetrius Poliorcetes now also got again upon the throne of Macedon; and with him, Pyrrhus, at first, stood on the same friendly terms as of old. But Demetrius was an encroaching, grasping prince, and thus it was not long before war broke out between them. The oriental pride and haughtiness of Demetrius gave offence to the Macedonians: they fell off from him, and Pyrrhus leagued himself with Lysimachus. The people declared for them, and they divided the country between them. But this division again roused the spirit of the Macedonians: Lysimachus was a native, Pyrrhus a foreigner, for which reason he was cast off by the inhabitants of the district which had fallen to his share. The period of the loss of Macedon is generally dated several years too soon.
Pyrrhus was not stubborn against fortune: he carried on war as an art; if his stars were unkind, he would give way. War was his happiness and his life; he raised the science of generalship to its utmost height; in his method of battle array, he was a mighty master. A fragment of Livy in Servius, according to a safe emendation, says, Pyrrhus, unicus bellandi artifex, magisque in prœlio quam in bello bonus: the result of the campaign was what interested him least. Some generals have a talent for making the disposition of a battle; but they either do not know at all how to plan a campaign, or, when they have won a battle, they get tired of the thing; others show a remarkable turn for the arrangement of the whole campaign, but are less successful in battles. To the former class belongs the Archduke Charles of Austria, as he himself acknowledges in his strategical writings: Pyrrhus also cared so much for the pleasure of winning in the game of war, that he scarcely ever followed up a battle which he had gained. It may even have been painful to him, afterwards to annihilate a beaten foe, when there was no longer any skill in destroying him. This betokens a fine soul, but the object of the war is in this way lost sight of.
Pyrrhus now took up his residence in Ambracia, and embellished it as a real city of kings. When the Tarentine ambassadors now made their appearance, and concluded with him a treaty of subsidies, in which very likely much remained unsettled; Pyrrhus quickly sent over Cineas with three thousand men, that he might get a firm footing, and prevent any revulsion in the anger which had been aroused by the devastations of the Romans. Cineas, like his princely friend, was an extraordinary man; he stood by the side of Pyrrhus as one who was quite free, and had attached himself to him from inclination, and with all his heart. He was from a people which has produced no other distinguished man, being of Larissa in Thessaly, probably an Aleuad; and he is called a pupil of Demosthenes: this is only barely possible, as Demosthenes had now been dead forty years already. Perhaps this statement merely rests on a mistake; as he may indeed have been spoken of as a sectator Demosthenis. Few at that time might have still been able to appreciate Demosthenes; a man like Cineas understood him, and drew inspiration from his writings. How Cineas became the friend of Pyrrhus, we cannot tell.
The Tarentines delivered up their citadel to Cineas, who, with great adroitness, did every thing to keep them in good humour, so as to blind them with regard to the views of Pyrrhus; he allowed them to go on living merrily; they did not arm themselves, and he quite won their confidence. Pyrrhus had not much might of his own; but from several neighbouring princes he managed to get elephants, engines, ships, and other necessaries of war;—from Ptolemy Ceraunus, he had five thousand Macedonian soldiers:—he was a thorn in the side of every one of them, and they were all glad that he went so far away. He is said to have gone over with twenty thousand foot, four or five thousand horse, and a number of elephants: how many there were of these, we are not told. Early in the year, he was ready; but he had a very bad passage, owing partly to the imperfect navigation of the time, and still more to the circumstance that the Epirotes were even less skilled in steering a ship’s course than the Greeks. Moreover, the sea about the Ceraunian rocks had then, as it has to this very day, a bad name for sudden squalls; the swell from the Adriatic to the Syrtes, which is almost like the great Mexican gulf-stream, made the voyage across a hazardous one. Several ships of his fleet were lost, others were driven out of their course; he himself, with a great deal of trouble, reached the Sallentine coast, at which all who had escaped came together. He made all haste to get to Tarentum, which opened its gates to him; but he had hardly collected his scattered fleet, when he took very serious measures with the people there. He saw that his army alone was not strong enough for his designs, and yet an enlistment was too expensive; he therefore had the gates shut, and he raised a levy from among the Tarentines, whom he forced to serve in his phalanx. They were highly displeased at this, many tried to escape; but he redoubled the strictness of his measures, put a stop to the gymnasia and other public meetings, and soon showed himself to be a tyrannical master. The Tarentines had indeed been mistaken in their expectations. They would have treated Pyrrhus, as they did princes who had formerly been called over; they wanted to stay at home, while he carried on the war. But Pyrrhus could do no such thing; his territory was but small, and the war promised to be a bloody one: he therefore demanded the co-operation of the Tarentines. These began to grumble; but they were quite powerless against him, as he was in possession of the citadel. He was thus driven to have recourse to harsh police regulations. Only a consular army under P. Valerius Lævinus withstood him.—The history of the time, with the exception of Pyrrhus’ campaigns, is very little known to us: probably Rome employed a large force against Etruria, in order to bring it to a definite peace. The whole of Italy was thrown into a state of fermentation: the Romans took hostages from those allies who could not be relied on, trying however, nowhere to betray any fear; and they raised great armaments. But it is inconceivable how they could have ventured to send only a consular army against Pyrrhus, who moreover every where gained people over by his manners and address. He is, among all the barbarian kings, the only character fraught with all the brilliance of the old Hellenism; and, although not without faults, he was a being of a higher order, and able to achieve great things with small means. The Samnites and Lucanians had sent ambassadors to him already in Epirus; the Apulians, and several Italian peoples joined him immediately after his arrival; but this did not, for the moment, lead to any increase of his power. The proconsul L. Æmilius Barbula was stationed in Samnium, which he frightfully wasted, to prevent the Samnites from thinking of forming a junction with Pyrrhus against the army of Lævinus. A correspondence sprang up between Pyrrhus and Valerius Lævinus, in which the former offered to act as mediator between Rome and Tarentum. He may indeed have had a high opinion of the Romans, but he did not understand them after all; for the tone of his letters, as far as we know them, is entirely mistaken, so that no agreement took place. The Romans demanded satisfaction from him, for having, though a stranger, set his foot upon Italian ground. This seems to have been a national view of theirs. Valerius now went to Lucania. He wished for a battle, before a confederate army of Samnites and Lucanians could join the king; as most likely they were kept in check by the other consul. Pyrrhus had likewise marched against him, seeking to fight before the two armies formed a junction. He crossed the Siris in the neighbourhood of Heraclea, which is the finest country in this part of Italy, and may rank with Campania in fertility and wealth. He felt confident of victory, and he was bent on humbling the pride of the Italian allies, by beating the Romans without their help. The Romans seem to have gone on very slowly with their preparations; he distressed them very cleverly by cutting off their supply of food, and they were obliged to fight that they might not have to abandon that district, and to fall back upon Venusia, which was dangerous on account of the allies. The evening before the battle, Pyrrhus reconnoitred the Roman position, and was amazed at the order there. He was accustomed to fight against Macedonians and Greeks, or against Illyrians; now he saw the activity and the high state of training of the individual Roman soldier, and thus he became very serious at the thoughts of the impending battle. Here the contrary tactics of two excellent armies came into collision: on the side of the Macedonians, the system was then carried to the highest perfection, of acting in masses;[159] on the side of the Romans, that of a line which far outflanked the enemy. If the Epirote phalanx awaited the shock of the Romans unmoved, the latter could do nothing; but it was no easy work in cold blood to stand the furious charge of the Romans, the shower of their pila, and the fierce onset of their swords. Yet Pyrrhus had a great advantage in his Thessalian cavalry, that of the Romans being badly mounted and badly armed. The Roman army, to the astonishment of Pyrrhus, now forded the Siris, and fell upon him: on both sides, they fought with great fury. The Romans had never yet encountered any Macedonian phalanx. Seven attacks were repulsed: like madmen, they threw themselves on the sarissæ, in order to break through the phalanx, as did Arnold Von Winkelried. The day was not yet won; but the Roman cavalry was very successful in the beginning of the battle: the Epirotes were already wavering; another moment, and they would have been broken. At this crisis, Pyrrhus led forth his cavalry, which, contrary to all expectation, had before that been worsted by the Romans,[160] and also about twenty elephants with it: the Roman cavalry was terror stricken; the horses took fright and ran away. The Thessalian cavalry now dashed into the flanks of the legions, and cut them down with fearful bloodshed: many Romans were taken prisoners, especially horsemen. The overthrow was complete: the camp could not be held, and every one fled singly: had Pyrrhus pursued, the whole of the Roman army would have been annihilated, as were the French after the battle of Waterloo. But the Romans, and above all Lævinus, here again behaved admirably: they collected their forces, as Frederic the Great did after the battle of Kunersdorf, and retreated to Venusia. This alone could have been the place in Apulia of which Zonaras speaks; were it not for this stronghold, they would have had to go across the mountains as far as Luceria. It was now shown how excellent was the plan of making Venusia a colony; but for this, not a Roman could have escaped, as the Samnites and Lucanians would have destroyed them. The Italian allies reached Pyrrhus after the battle only. Hereupon Pyrrhus at first expected Roman ambassadors; but as he did not hear of any thing from the Romans, who, on the contrary, made new armaments, he put himself in motion. The direct road to Rome lay open before him; he therefore left the Roman armies on one side, and marched upon the capital, as he held that most sound principle of always trying to end the war soon. But as he advanced, he found himself dreadfully mistaken about the condition of the country: Rufinus had been joined by the remnants of Lævinus’ army; and probably they had either cut their way through Samnium, or had gone to Rome through the territory of the Marsians and Marrucinians. Pyrrhus expected every where to find provisions for his army; but he was struck with dismay, when he saw the state of Lucania, and especially of Samnium. According to a newly discovered fragment, he told the Samnites that they had deceived him, and that their country was a wilderness. He could therefore advance but slowly. He approached Capua, which, however, with praiseworthy fidelity shut its gates against him; near Casilinum, he must have crossed the Vulturnus; and he now tried to gain the Latin road, so as to reach the discontented towns, Præneste, Tibur, and others. He reckoned likewise on the Etruscans, perhaps also on the Gauls. Here we clearly see the hand of Providence. Had not the Boians been destroyed the year before by the Romans, the Etruscans would certainly have risen; but now they were confined to their own resources, and divided among themselves. On this occasion, the Romans must have shown great adroitness: they no doubt made with the Etruscans at this very moment συνθήκαι εὐδοκούμεναι, by which these were only bound to trifling services.
Pyrrhus, who was slowly advancing against Rome with seventy thousand men, as it is said, availed himself of the interval to enter into negotiations for peace, and sent Cineas to Rome. The conditions seemed fair; but when looked at more closely, they were very hard. He demanded that the Romans should conclude a peace with Tarentum, Samnium, Lucania, Apulia, and Bruttium, as with equals, and give up what they had taken from them, namely, Luceria, Fregellæ, Venusia; that is to say, that they should go back to what they possessed forty years before. This was exorbitant. We know these conditions from Appian, who must have taken them from Dionysius: in our books of history, it looks as if Pyrrhus had wished to beg the peace for the Tarentines. The defeat, however, had made such a terrible impression, that Rome was deeply shaken; the majority already began to reconcile themselves to the thought of it. This is the celebrated negotiation of Cineas, and in it we perceive his uncommon tact; for he by no means hurried matters, but tried to win all hearts by personal attentions, in which he was aided by his extraordinary memory: he called every Roman by his name, and treated him according to his peculiar disposition. Appius Claudius, however, turned the scales; and for whatever he may have been guilty of in the course of his life, he now made amends, by inspiring the senate with the courage to reject the proposals of Cineas, and to order him to quit Rome within four and twenty hours. It was not until after these negotiations, that Pyrrhus made his appearance before Rome.
The history of this war has been handed down to us in such a scanty form, that we know merely from an incidental notice, that Pyrrhus took the important town of Fregellæ by storm, and advanced on the Latin road as far as Præneste, of which he got possession of the citadel. Here, where he could overlook the campagna of Rome, he found all his hopes disappointed. The Etruscans had concluded a peace, and the army which had been fighting against them, was at Rome, where a levy besides was raised of every one who was able to bear arms; the troops of Lævinus had been reinforced, and following close on the heels of Pyrrhus, had advanced by Capua on the Appian road; the allies who remained faithful had mustered all their forces; and thus he stood in the high Æquian mountains, at a late season of the year, with an army before him within the walls of Rome, another at his side, a reserve forming in his rear, and all this in a country in which retreat was impossible in winter. With a heavy heart, he therefore resolved upon turning back to Campania; a Roman army followed him, and another under Lævinus marched on his flank. Before these two armies could join each other, he wished to give battle to the Romans; but the courage and alacrity of the enemy, and the demoralized state of his own troops, who were already living on bad terms with the allies, so depressed him, that he gave up the idea, and was glad to return to Tarentum with a great deal of booty and many prisoners.
Although this campaign ended without any lasting evil consequences for the Romans, yet they were very much weakened; the number of prisoners taken by Pyrrhus was far greater than at the battle of Heraclea. They therefore sent an embassy to treat about the ransom of these, or to exchange them for Tarentines and Italians. It was then that the celebrated conversation between Fabricius and Pyrrhus took place, which certainly the Romans have not been the first to record. Timæus has written a special work on the war of Pyrrhus; Pyrrhus himself left memoirs behind him, and from these, most likely, the accounts we have are derived: they show what a high opinion the Greeks had of the Romans. The embassy was unsuccessful; but Pyrrhus, owing to the greatness of his mind, and also to make an impression upon a people like the Romans, gave leave to the prisoners to go to Rome for the Saturnalia, on their taking an oath that they would return after the feast was ended. It is asserted that no man dared to break his oath, and also that the senate and consuls issued a strict edict against it. On both sides, this act affords a fine proof of the feelings of that age, and on the whole, the war, from the mutual respect of the combatants, is one of the finest in history; for although both parties fought for life and death, they yet carried it on with kindliness for each other. The embassy of Fabricius, Rufinus, and Dolabella, and the account of how Pyrrhus tried to get Fabricius to stay with him, and even to share his kingdom, has passed into an infinite number of moralizing books. I certainly believe in the fact that the king wanted to make Fabricius his friend and companion; the story tallies so exactly with Pyrrhus’ character, that we cannot but take it for true, though the details are flourishes of the rhetors, particularly of Dionysius of Halicarnassus. It is one of the traits of genius in Pyrrhus, that he had become an enthusiastic admirer of the Romans: he courted their friendship. Although we must give up some of the actions of his life as unjust, yet his whole soul is so great and noble, that we do not know of any period of history on which one may dwell with greater pleasure. He was desirous of peace, but of a reasonable one for his Italian allies, whom he did not choose to abandon.
But the peace was not obtained. Pyrrhus now saw very clearly, that he could not effect anything by such thrusts against the heart of Rome: the strongholds in Apulia—Venusia and Luceria—had to be wrested from the enemy. This was the object of the campaign which followed. In the meanwhile, an event fell out which made the war still more difficult for him, and did not allow him to draw any fresh reinforcements from Macedon. This was the invasion of that kingdom by the Gauls, which was fatal to Ptolemy Ceraunus by whom he had been hitherto supported. With his Italian allies also, he must have had some differences; so that he now carried on the war with nothing like the forces which he had before. The Romans with both their armies were in Apulia; that Pyrrhus was besieging a town there when one of the armies came up, is mentioned, but not the name of the place: very likely it was Venusia. Here follows the battle near Asculum, the only incident which we know of this year’s campaign, the different accounts of which in Plutarch are most perplexing: that of Hieronymus of Cardia, whose sources were Pyrrhus’ own memoirs, must be our guide. On the first day, there was a skirmish between the two armies, in which the Romans were afraid to go down into the plain, lest they should be exposed to the elephants and cavalry. As the phalanx with the sarissæ would have had to fight at great disadvantage on broken ground, Pyrrhus, with great skill, forced his enemy to take a position which was favourable to him; and here the Romans were beaten, and are said to have lost seven thousand men. Yet they were so near their camp, and had so well fortified it, that they retired to it in perfect order: it was not an overthrow, but merely a lost battle. It seems also that the Apulians in Pyrrhus’ army stopped the course of the victory; for when the Romans were beginning to fall back, they plundered the camp of their own allies, so that it was necessary to send troops to check them. That Pyrrhus did not gain anything beyond the victory, was already the same to him as a defeat. In the meanwhile, the winter was now setting in: among the Romans, the confident hope of victory was on the increase, whereas Pyrrhus had no more prospects. He could not recruit his own troops, as the Gauls were advancing into Macedon, and threatening the frontiers of Epirus; his kingdom was very limited, and his subjects displayed the most decided unwillingness to go and serve beyond the sea to gratify his ambition, when the barbarians were already showing themselves at their borders. Nor had he any trust in the Italians: to control them, he alternately placed an Italian moveable cohort which fought with the pilum, and a solid battalion of the phalanx,—a plan which may have been better in theory than it turned out to be in practice. That he had this system, is evident from Polybius; he employed it near Beneventum, perhaps also at Asculum.
The Romans, in all likelihood, had for some time reduced the places on the Liris which had fallen away: public opinion declared for them in the whole of Italy. On both sides, negotiations were attempted. The Romans wished to drive Pyrrhus out of Italy, because its conquest was now sure; Pyrrhus, whose love of roving had been stirred, and who therefore longed to give up the enterprise, made the Romans repeated offers, to which, however, they would not listen so long as any foreign troops had a footing on Italian ground. Now we have new Roman consuls, one of whom was Fabricius. To this time belongs the story of a noble Epirote, or the physician, or cupbearer of Pyrrhus (the name also varies greatly, Timochares, Nicias, &c., being written), having offered the Roman consuls to poison the king. The thing is not incredible in itself; but it is so differently told in all the versions, that it cannot possibly have been publicly known. It seems to me to have been nothing else but a preconcerted farce, which Pyrrhus had got up, that he might have a pretext for retreating from Italy. One could hardly suppose this, had not something like it happened in modern times: the negotiation between Napoleon and Fox in the year 1806, is a case in point. They wanted to conclude a truce: Pyrrhus, when the Romans gave him up that physician, set all the Roman prisoners free without any ransom; and they, on their side, probably sent him an equal number of Tarentines and Italians. Pyrrhus now declared to his allies, that in the rich country of Sicily, which received him with open arms, he would find the means of aiding them effectually. Thus he now obtained from the Romans an advantageous truce. The latter did not, however, give up the right of continuing the war against the Italians: unfortunate Samnium was left to its fate. Pyrrhus had been in Italy two years and two months; in Sicily he remained until the fourth year.
The Greek population of Sicily had, owing to the death of Agathocles, been rent into factions. Tyrants dismembered the island; the Carthaginians also were spreading over it; and the Mamertines, who were Oscan mercenaries, had treacherously seized upon Messana. Pyrrhus was looked upon as a deliverer, especially as he had married Lanassa, a daughter of Agathocles: his son, whom he brought with him, received homage at Syracuse as king. He drove out the Carthaginians from every place but the impregnable stronghold of Lilybæum, and kept the Mamertines closely shut up within their walls. His friend Cineas must then have been already dead, as we find him surrounded by other men, who were his evil geniuses, and led him on to perdition. His own sound sense inclined him to make peace with the Carthaginians on splendid terms,—they wanted to keep Lilybæum only; but the cowardly Siceliotes would not do this, as they believed that they would not be at all better off, if the Carthaginians still remained in any part of the island. Their condition would, however, have been very much improved. Pyrrhus had conquered the Mamertines, and united the whole of Sicily under the settled rule of an Æacidas. But he now yielded to these unhappy counsels, which was so much the worse for him, as he was wanting in perseverance. The siege of Lilybæum was an immense undertaking; the fortifications of that town were one of the wonders of the ancient world, and the fleet of the Carthaginians was ever bringing fresh troops and provisions. The end of all this was, that Pyrrhus had to raise the siege. He thus lost his credit with the fickle Siceliotes, and was beguiled into tyrannical measures; so that it was good news to him when the Italian allies entreated him to return at any rate, as otherwise they would be forced by the Romans to make a most disadvantageous peace. He could not cross the strait, as the Mamertines were masters of Messana, and a mutinous Campanian legion had Rhegium; but he landed near Locri. While on his passage, he was attacked by the Carthaginian fleet, which destroyed very many of his ships; and having now scarcely saved any thing of the treasures which he had brought with him from Sicily, he arrived very much reduced in men and in money.
During his absence of more than three years, the Romans had carried on the war with the utmost cruelty. The inhabitants, as was the case in the last years of the Spanish war, could only form guerillas, which did much harm to the enemy’s army, but were unable to stand against it in a pitched battle: they were therefore always beaten. I shall not now speak of the single places which were destroyed at that time: old Croton, which was twelve (Italian) miles in circumference, now received its deathblow, and was entirely bereft of its population; the enemy took one town after another, and the country became a wilderness. Pyrrhus returned in the year 477, and restored his army in the most wonderful way. He had many old soldiers from the army of Agathocles, deserters also from the Carthaginians, and others; he now called upon the Tarentines and all the Italians: his army—but most likely this is an exaggeration—is said to have amounted to eighty thousand men. He encamped near Taurasia, not far from Beneventum, being opposed by Curius, who, it seems, had only one army. Pyrrhus was now already disheartened; he had lost all faith in his invincibility; dark forebodings and dreams haunted him;—not that he had entirely lost courage, but his spirit was no more what it had once been. His dispositions for attacking Curius were beautiful; too much, however, was left in them to chance, and his luck had forsaken him. His plan was, that a large body should go round the Roman camp, which was on the side of a hill, and storm it from above at day break, whilst he, at the same time, attacked it from below. But as in night marches people always arrive later than is calculated, the troops which had been sent, lost their way; the king was waiting for the preconcerted signal for him to advance while it was still night, and before it appeared, it became broad day. The Romans then learned that there were enemies behind them on the mountains; on which they quickly formed, and the camp was easily defended, whilst the main body faced the army of Pyrrhus. As they were now already trained to fight against elephants, they took burning arrows wrapped round with tow, which, when shot with sufficient force, penetrated into the hide of the beast with such friction, that the oakum and the pitch caught fire, and maddened it: they had tried this already at Ascalum, and they now practised it on a far larger scale. One dam, in particular, whose young one was wounded, became furious, and in her rage turned against her own masters. The Epirotes were overpowered, the phalanx utterly broken, and the rout complete; even the camp could not be maintained: Pyrrhus retired to Tarentum. The Romans, besides their other booty, had taken eight elephants. The affair was now decided. Pyrrhus’ only thought was to abandon the whole undertaking; yet he did not wish entirely to give up what he possessed in Italy. He therefore left Milo behind in Tarentum with a considerable force, which was strong enough to keep the enemy from a siege, but was a dreadful nuisance for the place itself. The Romans now turned against the several peoples which they had to subdue, while Pyrrhus made use of a stratagem to get off. For he caused the report to be spread among the Tarentines, that he intended, first to settle matters in Macedon, and then to come back again with the whole power of that country: and really he may have had some thoughts of the kind. He now returned with a feeble force to Epirus, after having been away for six years. There he found ample room for enterprises. Antigonus Gonatas, when scarcely raised to the Macedonian throne, was abandoned by his troops, and the whole of the land proclaimed Pyrrhus king; the Macedonians soon became exasperated by the excesses of his Gallic mercenaries, and again sided with Antigonus. Pyrrhus then transferred the war into the Peloponnesus, and undertook an expedition against Sparta, in which he well nigh succeeded; but the victory was snatched from him when the Epirotes had already entered the town. Fortune always showed him success very near, in order to wrest it from him again. From thence he marched to Argos, having been called in by the republican party against the aristocrats and the tyrant Aristippus, who had summoned Antigonus to their aid. In a fight with the latter, within the town itself, Pyrrhus was killed by a woman with a tile. The history of those times is so scanty, that we do not even know the year in which this great prince died.
Two years after Pyrrhus had left Italy, L. Papirius the younger and Sp. Carvilius completed the reduction of Samnium (480). It was indeed in the confident hope that they would effect this, that they were chosen: both of them, about five and twenty years before, in the third Samnite war, had fought the most decisive campaign. The Samnites saw that they could not struggle against fate, and they saved themselves by a peace, which, however painful it might be, could not, after all, be called disgraceful: it was in reality rather a subjection than a peace. We have no accurate knowledge of its conditions. Thus much is clear, that the confederacy, of which there were only three cantons left, was broken up, and that the Samnite peoples, as such, continued to exist singly. They were to bind themselves ad majestatem populi Romani comiter colendam.
The same Papirius, as consul, or proconsul, took Tarentum. In that town, Milo had remained behind with a few thousand Epirote troops. Milo behaved altogether like a rough general, in fact as a distinguished captain of brigands, like the Spanish generals in the Netherlands: the military thought themselves allowed to do anything; the term latro is most aptly applied to them. We must imagine Milo to have been a man like Ali Pacha of Janina and his followers: he was capable of the deepest dissimulation, no promise, no oath was sacred to him. We have no idea of what a φρουρά then was, even of friendly troops:—one must for this be acquainted with the thirty years’ war and that of the Netherlands;—it was just like a quartering of robbers, about the same as the soldiers of the “Catholic League” in the thirty years’ war: the Roman discipline was infinitely better. Milo was a thorough scoundrel. He gave the Tarentines to understand that he would negotiate the peace for them, and then leave the town; instead of which, he sold the town and surrendered the citadel to the Romans, the Tarentines fully believing all the time, that the peace was about to be proclaimed. One morning, they were most dismally awakened when Milo had opened to the Romans the gates of the Acropolis, and had himself embarked. The Romans must then already have carried off very many precious things. The walls were partly pulled down; all those who were still alive from the time of the outrage against Postumius were butchered. The Romans boast of having restored to the town its liberty, which means, that they left to it its existence, and allowed the inhabitants the possession of their landed property, and their own magistrates; but a Roman legion was long quartered at Tarentum, and the Tarentines had to pay a contribution, as did all the Greek towns, beginning with Naples, (unless, like Heraclea, they were treated with particular favour,) in contradistinction to the Italian ones, from which the Romans, on the other hand, exacted military service. Only ships were likewise furnished by the Greek towns.
The Lucanians, Bruttians, Sallentines, Picentines, Sarsinates, Umbrians, now gradually acknowledged Rome’s supremacy; but in most cases, not before they had kicked against the pricks, and thereby made their fate worse. The conditions were various. Bruttium had to yield to the Romans half of the forest of Sila, which is of great value for shipbuilding; and thus the Romans acquired revenues, as well as supremacy, in all these countries. They now built a new chain of fortresses, as the first one of the Samnite war was no longer sufficient; on the Adriatic, Brundusium; and also on the lower sea, the sea-port towns of Pyrgi and others. Ten years after the departure of Pyrrhus, Rome was already mistress of the borders of the Romagna, Ferrara, Ravenna, the marshes of Pisa, and the river Macra, as far as the Japygian promontory; and thus she became the most powerful and compact state in all the world then known. She had also a great number of free allies, and she so conducted herself, that we clearly see that there must have been at that time a general law which settled the position of the Italian socii: the object of this is plain, it being gradually to form out of them one Roman people. The allies had indeed to blame themselves for having so long struggled against the will of fate. The different nations managed their own affairs themselves; they had their own laws, languages, and dialects; only Rome was their centre, and they were in due time to rub off whatever was incongruous with it. Italy was divided with reference to taxation, and placed under a certain number of quæstors, who collected the revenue. Hence their number was increased from four to eight, as the farmed revenues of the republic had to be gathered in. Isopolity seems to have been introduced for nearly all the peoples of Oscan and Sabellian stock: the Etruscans had a law of their own. In this system, the share was fixed which each of the nations had to take in every war. There must have been a sort of rotation for the military service, although discretionary power was given to the consuls, to state on entering into office to the commissaries of the allies, who had then to find themselves at Rome, how many auxiliaries each had to furnish. The rules in which it is laid down, how much of the ager publicus of the Romans should be allotted to them, in what proportion they should be allowed to share in the colonies which were founded, date likewise from this period. It was settled with regard to all the allies of Rome, how they should be capable of acquiring the rights of Roman citizens; and, that too many might not be withdrawn from their homes, the rule was made, that whoever migrated to Rome was to leave one member of his family behind in the land of his birth. Every thing that belonged to the burthen of military service, was regulated by general laws. If we compare the relation of the allies in other countries of antiquity to the state which held the hegemony, the result is most favourable to the Romans. Their allies were placed on a very honourable footing: for instance, they had to furnish for their soldiers nothing but the pay; their food was provided by Rome. No new legislation took place: the old constitution was merely consolidated, and some particular points defined.
The most important event of that time, is the chastisement which the Romans inflicted on the legion of Rhegium. The Campanians had furnished a legion for the Roman service, and, properly speaking, in rank they stood quite equal to the Romans, as they still had the old right of the municipium: Rome had the superiority de facto only. When the Romans had got up eight legions against Pyrrhus, there was among them a Campanian one. This was placed as a garrison in Rhegium, to keep that Greek town in submission, which indeed at a former period had placed itself under the protection of the Romans, but now wanted to unite with Pyrrhus. Several of the Greek cities had already freed themselves by treachery from such garrisons: a like charge was also brought against the people of Rhegium. The Campanian general, Decius Jubellius, formed the resolution of making himself master of the town, and to overcome all the scruples of his troops, he caused forged letters of the people of Rhegium to Pyrrhus to be read, as if they intended to betray the garrison to the king; whereupon the soldiers engaged in a dreadful massacre, butchering the male inhabitants, and seizing upon the women and children, just as eight years before, the Mamertines had done at Messana. The Romans had nothing to do with this foul crime; and at the end of the war, when these men had already held the town ten years, they marched to Rhegium. The soldiers had put themselves out of the pale of all the rights of man, and did not consider any pardon to be possible; they therefore, reckoning perhaps on the help of the Carthaginians, tried to stand their ground. The Carthaginian general in Sicily ought to have acted here with determination; yet this was too hazardous, owing to the state of feeling in Carthage: had fortune been unpropitious, he would have been sacrificed. The siege lasted a long while, and the Carthaginians did not interfere with it at all; at last the town was taken by storm. Out of the four thousand, there were three hundred still alive: these were carried to Rome, and beheaded there.
The treaty between the Romans and the Carthaginians had more than once been renewed and modified according to circumstances, especially with regard to the rule of Carthage in Sicily and Sardinia; at last, before the peace of Pyrrhus, they had concluded a formal alliance, and had bound themselves not to make any separate peace. When, however, Pyrrhus was in Sicily, both nations became exceedingly jealous of each other; and when in the second year of the war with Pyrrhus, a fleet of a hundred and twenty Carthaginian ships arrived before Ostia, and placed itself under the disposition of the Romans, the latter sent it back, though with the utmost courtesy. Afterwards, a Carthaginian fleet appeared in the roadstead of Tarentum to negociate with Milo for the surrender of the town. This evidently made the Romans hasten their speed; and they concluded their bargain in a hurry, and paid more than they would otherwise have done. This is the first misunderstanding between Rome and Carthage; yet strange to say, not even a hint of it is given by Polybius, although other writers mention it: and this is the more wonderful, as nothing could have induced Polybius to conceal it; for he is a most honest historian.
During the siege of Rhegium, the Romans entered into an alliance with Hiero of Syracuse, the first ever made with a Greek out of Italy. Hiero supported them vigorously; for it was his object to recover Messana. This would be much easier for him to do, if the people of Rhegium were destroyed, and he hoped to get from the Romans the furtherance of his ends. But the siege being protracted, the services of Hiero were half forgotten, and the Romans rather chose to do what formerly they would have been ashamed of.
The first occasion of the wretchedness which spread over Sicily, was the unfortunate expedition of the Athenian fleet to Sicily,—the νῆες ἀρχέκακοι, to speak in the words of the poet, the first link of the whole fatal chain. This expedition was a blunder; for even if it had been successful, it was extremely difficult to take advantage of it; yet it is pardonable in a people full of imagination, and which felt a strong call for action, to have allowed itself to be beguiled into such an enterprise. The Athenians were first called in by the Chalcidian towns, owing to the miserable hatred between the Doric and Ionic race, which is likewise found in the colonies; but the great expedition under Alcibiades was caused by the Segestæans, a Pelasgian or Doric people, at the foot of Mount Eryx in Western Sicily, which was hard pressed by the Selinuntians, who were Ionians: this expedition, as is well known, altogether miscarried. When the Syracusans had now become the sole masters of the island, the Segestæans, dreading their vengeance for having sought the help of the Athenians, betook themselves to the Carthaginians as their refuge; and these, with a large army, conquered Gela, Camarina, and other towns, and encamped before Syracuse, where at that time Dionysius became tyrant. After a war of many vicissitudes, in which Dionysius, during the second campaign, by the conquest of Motye (the surviving inhabitants of which became the founders of Lilybæum), seemed to get the upperhand, so that there was every appearance that the Carthaginians would be entirely swept from the island; the peace was concluded by which these were left in possession of the territories of Selinus and Himera, consequently of a third of Sicily. The country was now infamously governed by Dionysius the Younger, rent by domestic struggles under Dion, and again restored to peace by Timoleon. The latter defeated the Carthaginians, to whom the conquered province remained indeed, but on condition that the Greeks might recover their towns in it. Now follows a time of peace and happiness in Grecian Sicily; then the dreadful usurpation of Agathocles, and his stormy reign which was so full of change. This period has often been thought to have been one of mildness and justice; but it was rather an age which made the reign of Dionysius to be wished for again, an era of humanity and prosperity. Agathocles was no common man; but he was a monster: he wasted the marrow and heart’s blood of the country, that he might surround himself with splendour. The way in which Sicily was wasted under this tyrant, and afterwards, was so frightful, that one cannot understand, how tillage and population could have continued in such a country; and especially how Syracuse could have been one of the greatest cities in the world. His wars, on the whole, were marked by awful calamities; their renown for having been brilliant cannot be gainsayed: the peace which he made at last with the Carthaginians was fair enough. The hand of an avenging God was evidently upon him. Feuds broke out in his own family: he was poisoned, as we can hardly doubt, by his son or his grandson; but he did not die, he was only dangerously ill, and he was burned while yet half alive. The curse which lay on the house of Lysimachus, was also manifest in him. After his death, democracy was brought in again at Syracuse; yet it was not able to keep its ground, and the island fell into utter decay. The Carthaginians had laid Agrigentum waste in the days of Dionysius; it had somewhat recovered since, and after the death of Agathocles, it became independent under Phintias, a prince of its own. The condition of Sicily, even as early as the period described in the letters known under Plato’s name, was such, that the Hellenic races were threatened with being crushed by the Pœni and Oscans. This was after the death of Agathocles, and for this reason I believe that the so-called letters of Plato—the earlier ones at least, the seventh and the eighth—date from that time; for, old they are, and they still belong to the classical era, though they are not genuine, that is to say, not as old as Plato. Bentley says that there are two ways of proving the spurious character of a writing, from its contents, and from the language. Against the former, very little can be objected here; with regard, however, to the seventh and eighth letters, some discussion might be raised not only about the language, but also the contents, which evidently bear the stamp of an age later than that of Plato. We have, for example, the prophecy that the Greek race would perish, and in the whole island Oscan or Phœnician be spoken. Agathocles had carried on his wars by means of mercenaries who were most of them barbarians; many were Samnites, Lucanians and Oscans, under which last name, at that time, all the Sabellian peoples also were comprehended. We never find that Romans served in foreign armies; on the other hand, there were Etruscan troops in Sicily, especially Mamertines, which is the common name for the Oscan mercenaries, and indeed we meet with them there at a time when Rome was at war with their mother country. This shows quite a different relation of the individual to the state among the Romans, than among the other nations; and this also accounts for the power of the Romans. The feeble hands which, after the death of Agathocles, took the reins of government, were not able to manage these troops, and so they gave them money to return to Italy. While on their way, these came to Messana to embark. The people there, unmindful of the curse which, once upon a time, had been uttered against them by the Zanclæans, whom they had faithlessly driven out, received them into their houses; but they massacred the inhabitants, and set themselves up as a nation under the name of Mamertines, and many other Oscans flocked in to them. The outrages which these hireling soldiers committed, may be likened to those which took place in the year 1576, in the Netherlands, when the mercenary troops sacked whole towns to pay themselves for their wages: this was among others the fate of Maestricht. The Oscan colony was in a league with the people of Rhegium, and supported them; and the Romans only mastered them with the help of Hiero.
Hiero was of an old and noble race in Syracuse. Some there were, who, perhaps to flatter him, derived his pedigree from Hiero the son of Dinomenes; so that at a time when the state could be prosperously governed by a monarchy alone,—which could only be by a usurpation,—his circumstances peculiarly favoured him for it. He was first nominated general; and then, by the soldiers, king. They could not have wished for a better master. During his reign, which lasted nearly sixty years, was the first Punic war of twenty-four years; and, of course, the resources of his kingdom were most severely taxed. Nevertheless, he displayed so much good sense and economy, and he was withal such a mild ruler, that the Syracusans felt free, and, during the last twenty years of his government, happy. In his youth he was also warlike; but this habit he quite lost. One incident of his life, which is told by the scholiast on the Ibis of Ovid, is seldom noticed. He is said to have had Theocritus put to death on account of a satire, which is very likely to have been done by a Greek ruler of those days.
It was the object of Hiero’s endeavours to reduce the Mamertines. Syracuse had only a few dependent towns; Catana and Taurominium were allies. The Carthaginians had gotten Agrigentum, and had extended their frontiers as far as Gela and Camarina, as after the first peace with Dionysius; if Hiero could but have Messana, he hoped to have in the Romans a support against the Carthaginians. With these he was obliged to conclude a peace, in which he yielded to them the conquered places: he was, however, on very good terms with them, as far as outward appearances went. When by straining a point in his morality, he had got rid of his old mutinous mercenaries, whom he betrayed in the war, and allowed to be slaughtered by the Mamertines; he formed a new army, and taking the field against the latter, who had spread on the north-eastern third of the island, he won a decisive battle. To this refers the beautiful idyll Χάριτες of Theocritus, a poet, from whom we may form an idea of the freshness of spirit which there was then in Sicily. Hiero had peace with the Carthaginians, in order not to have them for enemies; and they forced upon him their support; they both of them together besieged Messana. Under these circumstances, the Mamertines saw no help. Hiero wished to exterminate them, as the destroyers of the Greek population; the Carthaginians had the same object in view, but not from the same reason. They also wanted to root them out; because as Oscans and Italians, these were of the same stock with the Romans, and might easily one day open to them the way into the island. Without doubt, they likewise thought of use Hiero merely as their tool, and to get the town for themselves; for, the fides Punica cannot after all so entirely be denied. In this dilemma, the Mamertines applied to the Romans. But it was absurd (ἄτοπον is the expression of Polybius) for the Romans, after having hunted down the allies of the Italians in Rhegium, to go and take the part of others who had done the self-same thing. The evil spirit of lust of power had, however, already got hold of the Romans: they were afraid, lest the Carthaginians should put themselves in possession of Messana, where, if these once gained a firm footing, they would find themselves sadly taken in by their false delicacy. And this is also true, that Carthage would have become for Rome, just as invulnerable as England was for Napoleon. The Carthaginians had betrayed their views on Italy when they sent the fleet to Tarentum. From Messana and its excellent harbour, they would have had an opportunity of easily sailing over to Calabria; whereas at present their nearest harbour was Panormus, from which they could not easily have undertaken such a daring enterprise. The Italians in Rhegium, it was contended, had disgraced the Roman name; but the sins of the Mamertines in foreign lands, Rome had nothing to do with. The most enlightened and moral policy would now have been, to exert themselves to make Hiero master of Messana, and to gain him over for an ally. This only seemed hazardous, because in that case, the Mamertines might have opened their gates to the Carthaginians.
The Roman senate had come to no resolution; nay it seems that from the fear of doing an unworthy act, or from motives of morality, it declined the offer. If the constitution had been the same as of yore, that μηδὲν ἀπροβούλευτον, nothing could be brought to the centuries, but what was laid before it by the senate, the affair would have been decided; but now the tribunes, without even calling upon the senate, could go at once to the people, and the latter resolved upon giving help to the Mamertines. Polybius accounts for this step by the circumstance that the people, being burthened with debts, had looked forward to a war, that they might enrich themselves; if this view be correct, it shows, that by this time already, the poorer classes had the upperhand in the assembly. Yet it is likely that Polybius puts forth that motive, only because he so thought it, and there may have been some others. At any rate, the resolution was foolhardy. The Carthaginians were masters of the sea, and the Romans had not one ship of war; they had even in the conquered sea-ports destroyed all the galleys of Etruria and of other countries, perhaps in order to prevent piracy, and to escape from the responsibility which might thus have fallen upon them. To transport their troops from Rhegium to Messana, they had no other vessels but a few triremes and penteconters belonging to Greek towns, as Polybius tells us. Pliny, on the other hand, says that the Romans had for this purpose in forty days built three hundred triremes; and indeed a small quantity would not have been enough. From Rhegium, the Romans treated with the Mamertines. These had already received into their town a Carthaginian general, but either without any troops at all, or with only very few: by what stratagem they got him away, is more than we know. Appius Claudius at first went over with a small body; soon afterwards, the whole of the army followed. The Carthaginians, whose fleet was lying near Pelorus, tried to hinder their passage; but the Romans took advantage of the wind and tide, and got speedily over by this mad daring. The Carthaginians, who had protected Messana against Rome, now united, as has been mentioned before, with Hiero, and both blockaded the town from different sides; probably the Carthaginians from the North, Hiero from the South. The communication between the two might be difficult; Messana being situated near a mountain of considerable extent, it was easy for the Romans to make a sally and to defeat Hiero separately. He made a stout resistance; but the Syracusan phalanx was not able to withstand the Roman legions. After this victory, the latter turned against the Carthaginians, and, as it seems, without any declaration of war. The Carthaginians retreated, and the Romans advanced without any hindrance. In the following year, 489, they reached the walls of Syracuse under Valerius Messalla, who is thus surnamed from Messana. Taurominium, Catana, and other towns opened their gates to them, and they made preparations likewise to besiege Syracuse; but Hiero still succeeded in making a peace. A very small state only was left to him, but he retained the sovereignty of it: he paid a small war contribution, and concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with the Romans.
Here should be the beginning of the first Punic war; but for the sake of connexion, it is usually dated from the passage over the strait.
END OF VOL. I.