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.