The Comic History of Rome

by Gilbert Abbott À Beckett

he Romans were now about to encounter a truly formidable foe, in the Samnites,—a warlike people, who had been extending their territory, by going to great lengths, and allowing themselves extraordinary latitude. Coming down upon Campania, they overlooked Capua, or rather they did not overlook it; for, having an eye to its wealth, they resolved to do their utmost to become possessed of it. Under these circumstances, the Campanians, being unable to find the means of a successful campaign, applied to Rome for assistance.

Two consular armies were equipped; one under M. Valerius Corvus, or the Crow, who was really ravenous for glory, and the other under A. Cornelius Cossus; this A. Cossus being in fact THE Cossus already spoken of.[28]

Corvus was an enormous favourite with the soldiers; less, however, on the strength of his moral qualities, than on the strength of his arms and legs; for he was an athlete of remarkable power. He could leap so high as to be able to jump over the heads of others of his own standing; and the rapidity of his promotion is therefore not astonishing. He was no less light with his tongue than with his legs; for he could run on almost as pleasantly with the former as he could with the latter. He was, in fact, an agreeable rattle, who could make and take a joke with equal ease,—a quality common in more modern times; for those who profess to make jokes of their own are very much in the habit of taking those of other people. He loved a glass of wine, and could drink it without professing his connoisseurship, after the manner of those learned wine-bibbers of the present day who are addicted to talking so much unmeaning buzz on the subject of bees-wing. His relish for the grape allured him to Mount Gaurus, then clad with vines, where he could take his observations among the raisins, and make in his mind's eye a sort of catalogue raisonnée of the enemy.

On this spot a battle ensued, which was fought with such fierceness on the side of the Romans, that the Samnites afterwards declared they had seen fire in their opponents' eyes; but the Samnites must have been light-headed themselves, to have made so absurd a statement. Valerius having been thus far successful, advanced into the Apennines, where, what are called the mountain fastnesses, are rendered dangerous by those occasional loosenesses of the earth that give rise to, or cause the fall of, an avalanche. Though nothing of this sort fell upon him, he was expecting the descent of the foe, which suddenly appeared on the topmost heights, and came down with such a run, that the escape of the Romans seemed impossible. In this difficult dilemma, a subordinate officer proved to be the safeguard of the whole Roman army; and as the noble lion, when netted to the profit of a bold hunter, was delivered by a mouse, so was the noble-hearted Valerius indebted to P. Decius Mus for the safety of himself and his followers. P. Decius laid, in fact, a snare for the Samnites, who were caught in this trap of Mus, or military mouse-trap. He climbed, with a little band, a height so narrow, that large numbers could not reach it to dislodge him, though it was necessary to keep an eye upon him; and, while the Mus attracted the cat-like vigilance of the whole Samnite army, Valerius and his followers were allowed to steal away unperceived to their own quarters.

When the enemy, tired with watching, had fallen asleep, Mus crept out, as quietly as his name would imply, and reached his camp in safety. He received immediately from the Consul an ox, with gilded horns, through which he might trumpet his fame; and the soldiers presented him with a corona obsidionalis—a crown made of blades of grass—in commemoration of their having been gallantly rescued from the blades of the enemy. The materials for a crown of this description were plucked on the spot, in memory of the pluck shown on the spot by the gallant recipient. Such a crown conveyed a finer lesson of morality than anything that the cold brilliance of gold or jewels could suggest; for the wreath of grass, converted, by the very sunshine in which it basked, into the dry and lifeless hayband, told, in a few hours, the perishable nature of glory.

Aided by the manœuvre of the Mus, the success of Valerius was complete: the Samnites fled in such consternation that they left behind them 40,000 shields and 170 standards; so that the Romans must have found the way literally paved with the flags of the vanquished. A triumph was decreed to both the Consuls, and foreign nations sent to congratulate the Romans on their success; the Carthaginians forwarding a crown of gold, twenty-five pounds in weight, the mere cartage of which from Carthage must have been costly and difficult. Compliments poured in upon the conquerors from every side; for good fortune increases the number of addresses to a state, just as the success of an individual causes a sensible, or rather a senseless, addition to the contents of his card-basket. Rome was inundated with calls upon her—many of which were for assistance from feeble countries, whose weak states seemed to be threatened with speedy dissolution.

A Scare-crow.

It was about this time (B.C. 342) that the garrison at Capua broke out into revolt, arising, it is said, from the fact that Capua was extremely rich, and the soldiers very poor; that the latter were hopeless debtors, and forgot what they owed their country in the vast sums they owed to their creditors. The story goes on to say, that a corps of heavy insolvents first originated the idea of sacking the city and bagging its wealth, by placing it among their own baggage. The Consul, C. Martius Rutilius, was sent to take the command, and he attempted the soothing system; but the soldiers were goaded with the fetters of debt, and refused to be smoothed over, or to submit to remain under irons. Being in want of a leader, they seized on T. Quinctius, an aged veteran, whose head was so completely bowed down, that he could not do otherwise than bow when asked if he would lead them as their general. The nod of palsy was interpreted into the nod of assent, and T. Quinctius was selected to oppose Corvus, or the Crow, though the only chance for the veteran was, that in the capacity of a scare-crow he might succeed in frightening his antagonist. The armies at length met, when the insurgents, led by a shivering veteran, began to follow their leader, and to shake with fear, which induced Valerius to offer them terms, and the quaking Quinctius was the first to recommend his troops to accept an amnesty. Thus ended an insurrection, of which the motive appears vague, and the management thoroughly contemptible. The best opinion of its origin seems to be, that the army abounded in debtors, who were afraid to go home, and who preferred the chances of a mutiny to the certainty of having to meet their creditors. The only concession they asked was the cancelling of all their debts; a proposition that savours rather of the swindler than the patriot. It is, however, an almost universal fact, that the insolvent classes of a community are to be found in opposition to the constituted authorities; and, indeed, the strength or weakness of such an opposition is no bad test, after all, of the merits of an administration; for if the majority of the people are well-to-do, the inference must be favourable to the government.