The Comic History of Rome

by Gilbert Abbott À Beckett

The Romans clothed by the Inhabitants of Capua.

Rome, smarting under the disgrace of a defeat, brought on by want of resolution in the troops, proceeded to incur a still greater disgrace by a resolution of the Senate. That body having met to consider the agreement entered into with the Samnites, determined not to ratify it; and, though aware of the fact, that six hundred Roman knights were detained as hostages, in chains, the Senate cared as little for their bonds as for the words of the Consuls, which had been passed for the fulfilment of the treaty. Spurius Postumius, who had nothing genuine in his conduct, was among the first to propose the violation of the arrangement he had made, and recommended that he himself, as well as all who had agreed to peace, should be, for the look of the thing, surrendered to the Samnites. He entered so fully into the deception about to be enacted, that when the Lictor was tying the cord loosely, as if conscious of the illusory character of the whole proceeding, Spurius insisted upon the cords being drawn sufficiently tight to enable him to declare to the Samnites that his hands were really tied, and that, if the Senate refused to be bound by his arrangements, he was so thoroughly bound by theirs as to be utterly powerless. Carrying the farce still further, he was no sooner delivered up to the Samnites than he turned round upon the Roman Fecial, and exclaiming, "I am now a Samnite," administered to the proper officer a violent kick, as if to show that he and Rome were to be henceforth on a hostile footing. The Samnite general looked on with contempt at the whole affair; the hostages were refused, and the 600 knights were also sent back; for Pontius had expected the Romans to keep their word, and was neither ready nor willing to be burdened with the keep of several hundred captives. This remarkable breach of their own faith left a more permanent mark upon them than any breach that could have been made by an enemy in the walls of their city; and the fact of their having built a temple to Public Credit, rendered their discreditable conduct still more remarkable.

The Samnites and the Romans were now perfectly agreed in their determination to fall out, wherever they might happen to fall in with one another. A series of small conflicts ensued, of which the accounts are almost as conflicting as the battles themselves; but there is every reason to believe that Fortune showered her favours right and left, by giving them first to one side and then to the other. L. Papirius Cursor, the Roman Consul, seems to have made himself the pre-cursor of his country's ultimate success, for he is said to have led the way to it by recovering Luceria. Hostilities had by this time become so fierce, that it was necessary to take a little breathing time on both sides, and a truce of two years was agreed upon. The war was then renewed under L. Æmilius and Q. Fabius, the dictators, who fought with various results, taking occasionally a city, and at other times being compelled to take what they were not at all disposed to receive at the hands of an enemy. No very remarkable incident occurred at the recommencement of the war, excepting the taking of the town of Sora by treachery; but meanness and deception were so common in the time we write of, that any event involving those despicable qualities cannot be considered unusual. Sora was situated on a rocky eminence, and though secure to a certain extent in its lofty position, it was not above the reach of that low cunning which will stoop to anything for the attainment of its object. A deserter, who appears to have had everything his own way among the Samnites, as well as among the Romans, persuaded the latter to retire some miles off, as if they had abandoned the siege, and then ordered them to have a regiment of cavalry concealed in a wood near the city. What the Samnites were about during these proceedings does not appear; nor is it easy to understand how they could have overlooked an important branch of the forces of the enemy among the trees; but tradition, when she wishes to shut her eyes to a difficulty, never hesitates to shut the eyes of all whose vigilance might have been fatal to the incident about to be related. The inhabitants of Sora may therefore be supposed to have been fast asleep and slow to wake, or to have had their backs turned, or to have taken something which had turned their heads, when the deserter was making his arrangements for the betrayal of their city. Having taken the steps already described, he conducted ten Roman soldiers up a sort of back staircase behind the crags; and the blindness of the inhabitants of Sora had come to such a pass, that the mountain pass was so thoroughly lost sight of as to be left without a single sentinel. Having lodged the ten men in the fortress, he concealed them there until night; but it is difficult to say how the ten stalwart soldiers could have been so thoroughly put away in the day-time as not to be observed, unless tradition, wishing to put her own construction on the affair, has proceeded to the construction of some secret cupboard in the fortress, where the men may have been closeted together until the hour arrived for their being brought into action. Waiting till the dead of night, the deserter desired the ten men to shout as loud as they possibly could, and to keep on hallooing until the cavalry were out of the wood; a movement which was to be effected when the deserter, rushing into the city, had frightened the inhabitants out of it, by running all over the town in a state of pretended alarm, which was to be accounted for by the continued shouting of the ten men in the citadel. Notwithstanding the numerous objections to the veracity of this story, tradition has handed it down to us, and we, as in duty bound, continue to hand it on, though we do not allow it to pass through our fingers without taking the precaution to stamp it with the mark of counterfeit. Tradition proceeds to say that the scheme was perfectly successful: that the citizens, frightened by the shouting of the ten soldiers in the citadel, ran into, or rather on to, the arms of the legions who were advancing with drawn swords to the gates of the city.

The Samnites having become weary of war, and tired of an existence which was passed in continually fighting for their lives, determined to bring matters to an issue as fast as possible. They met the Romans under Q. Fabius at Lautulæ, where Q was driven into a corner, and ran away, when his army not receiving from him the cue to fight, rapidly followed his example. C. Fabius having subsequently come to the assistance of Q., they united their forces, and being almost two to one against the Samnites, they obtained a victory.

Rome had, however, quite enough to contend against in various quarters; and, among others, the Ausonians betrayed hostile feelings, which were rendered abortive by another betrayal of a very disgraceful character. Among the Ausonians there existed a nominal nobility, whose rank gave them a sort of respectability to which they possessed no moral title. These nobles, by name and ignobles by nature, were mean enough to admit, by stealth, into some of the cities of Ausonia, a number of Roman soldiers in disguise, who, with the cruelty so commonly associated with fraud, commenced a general slaughter of the inhabitants.

It would be a waste of time and patience, both to writer and reader, were we to ask him to accompany us into every little field where a little skirmish may have taken place, at about this period, between Rome and her enemies. To describe the fluctuations of the fortune of war, would be as dry and unprofitable as the minute narration of all the incidents of a long game at heads and tails; nor would the historian have repeated very often the particulars of the throwing up the coin, before the reader would be found throwing up the history. We shall, therefore, content ourselves with giving the heads in a curtailed form, without going into the particulars of the movements of the generals. There was an enormous quantity of putting to the sword on both sides, but without running through the whole, we will submit to the eye of the reader the points best adapted for the use of the pupil. In the north of Samnium, the Romans were surprised by an Etruscan army, and nearly destroyed; but when they were more than half killed, they began to look alive, and completely exterminated the foe, whose survivors, consisting of their cattle, fell into the hands of the conquerors. The Consul, C. Marcius, had succeeded in taking a place called Allifæ; but the Samnites soon afterwards brought themselves completely round, and made him the centre of a circle, which, as he was entirely cut off from Rome, was to him a centre of extreme gravity. Not even a messenger could find a way to take to the city the tidings of the Consul's perilous position; but it seems to have become known, by some means or other, for L. Cursor hastened to the scene, and caused the Samnites to abandon their position. Beginning to despond, they sought a truce, for which they had to pay a most exorbitant price, in cash, corn, and clothes; for they had to pay, feed, and clothe for three months the troops who had paid them off, in another shape, and submitted them to a long series of thorough dressings. They, however, still held out against acknowledging the sovereignty of Rome, and thought themselves exempt from humiliation in making themselves the slaves in fact, as long as they remained independent in name, of that ambitious power. The main point of dispute remaining still undisposed of, more fighting ensued, until Samnium was at length so thoroughly reduced as to be obliged to confess itself beaten at last; and the Samnites, who had by degrees parted with everything they possessed for the luxury of maintaining that they were free to do as they pleased with their own, acknowledged Rome to be their master. Rome also needed relaxation; for her energies had become relaxed by a war of twenty years; and both parties having done each other all the harm they could, ceased only because the power of mischief had become completely lost on one side, and seriously impaired on the other.

So inveterate was the hostility between Samnium and Rome, that any pause in their actual conflict was filled up by preparations for a renewal, the first opportunity for which they were eagerly expecting to take advantage of. The third Samnite war was commenced by an attempt on the part of the Samnites to recover Lucania, and for that purpose they stupified the Lucanians by a series of severe beatings, which deadened the sense of the inhabitants to their danger. The nobles, who seem to have had the instinct of self-preservation in a higher degree than the virtue of patriotism, were quite prepared to obey a master who would purchase, rather than resist an enemy who would harass, them. They accordingly offered their allegiance to Rome, on condition that Rome would save them the trouble of defending themselves against Samnium. Roman envoys were despatched, in compliance with this arrangement, to call upon the Samnites to evacuate Lucania; but the envoys were unceremoniously ordered off, and betook themselves to a very quick return, unattended by the smallest profit. After a few minor encounters, the two Consuls, Q. Fabius and P. Decius Mus, the son of old Mus, already alluded to, led their combined forces into Samnium, and went different ways, though they fully purposed pulling together. Q. Fabius met the whole of the Samnite army, and a battle commenced, in which each was rapidly destroying the other's soldiers in about equal numbers, without any good to either, beyond the very melancholy satisfaction of being even with each other in the losing game that both sides were playing. This would probably have continued until the chances of war had degenerated into a game of odd man, in which the sole survivor would have been the victor, when a Samnite soldier, rather more far-seeing than the rest, espied what he supposed to be the army of Decius. That there are some things to which it is better to shut one's eyes, was proved on this occasion; for the long-sighted Samnite had no sooner espied a body of men in the back-ground, who were in reality the reserve of Q. Fabius, than he frightened himself and his fellow soldiers, by spreading a rumour that Mus was creeping slowly, but surely, up to them. The Samnites were at once struck with a panic, the blow inflicted by which is always more fatal than that of the sword, and the loss of spirit led to the destruction of nearly the whole body. Decius having joined his colleague, the two Consuls hunted the country of the Samnites, making game of everything that came in the way, while Appius Claudius carried on the war in Etruria. We should be curious to see the population returns—if any such existed—in relation to the Samnites, who were, according to tradition, being continually cut to pieces, routed, ravaged, and otherwise destroyed; but who, nevertheless, were, according to tradition, continually taking the field again in large numbers, as if nothing had happened. L. Valerius had just returned from assisting his colleague, Appius Claudius, in Etruria, when the Samnites turned up rather abundantly on the Vulturnus, and being at once attacked, were again cut to pieces, for by no means the last or only time on the great stage of history.

At about the same time, when the news of this victory reached Rome the Gauls were expected, and though it was against the law that the same Consul should be elected twice in ten years, the Romans, altering the constitution, without the trouble of revision, suspended the law for the purpose of securing the services of Q. Fabius.

He was re-elected with his colleague Decius Mus, and before setting out for battle, they consulted the augurs, who evinced their usual readiness to interpret the omens in the most favourable manner. On coming to the fortified camp of Appius Claudius, Fabius found the soldiers collecting wood, to form a stockade, which drew from him the remark, "It is not by cutting sticks you can succeed, but by showing a bold front to the enemy." The soldiers, animated by his words—which, to say the truth, do not appear to have anything particularly invigorating about them—were suddenly roused into lions, after having been in a lamb-like or sheepish condition, and instead of cutting any more wood, or pulling up the trunks of trees, began to pluck up a proper spirit. The Romans had now about 90,000 troops in the field, if we adopt the round numbers handed down to us, which do not always square with probability; but the historians wisely provide, as far as possible, for any deficiency that may arise in the course of the various cuttings to pieces, annihilations, and other contingencies which are at one time or other the alleged fate of nearly every army. The vast necessity for a surplus that may be boldly dealt with, can perhaps be understood from a circumstance recorded with reference to a legion led by L. Scipio. It had been stationed near Camerinum, and had in an engagement with the foe been cut to pieces without having been missed; nor was the loss discovered until their own countrymen recognised their heads carried on the lances of the advancing enemy. When the fact thus frightfully stared them in the face, the countenances of the Romans fell with sympathy at the fate of their comrades, which it must be confessed presented some very horrid features.

At length the hostile armies met near Sentinum in Umbria—the Romans mustering in considerable force, and the Samnites, in spite of much pruning, which seemed only to have the effect of increasing their growth, forming a highly respectable remnant. The latter had also a considerable accession in the shape of Gauls, Umbrians, and Etrurians; for tradition, when it desires to give interest to a battle, is always prepared to scrape together from all quarters a sufficient number of soldiers, on both sides, to equalise the chances of victory. While the armies were drawn out in line before each other, they are said to have been suddenly occupied in the contemplation of the following rather remarkable incident. A deer, pursued by a wolf, ran rapidly down the middle, and the two animals were on the point of going up again, when the deer, apparently changing its mind, ran among the Gauls, who, without hesitation, converted it into venison. The wolf, with a cunning worthy of the fox, declined venturing on an experiment that had been so costly to the deer, and turned in among the Romans, who, perhaps, fearing that the wolf might have a taste for calves as well as for sheep, took the precaution to save their legs, by making as wide an opening as possible. No sooner was the wolf out of the way, than the Romans began to boast that fear had gone to the foe in the shape of a deer, while valour had come to their side in the person of Mars, whom they declared they saw hidden under the hide of a wolf, his favourite animal. The battle at length commenced, and the day being exceedingly warm, added, in one sense, most inconveniently to the heat of the contest. The Gauls created immense consternation among the Romans by rushing down upon them in chariots armed with scythes, at the sight of which they were terribly cut up, and unmercifully cut down, before they had time to recover from their astonishment. Not wishing to be left as a wretched harvest on the field, the Romans were about to fly, when they were once more saved by a Mus, who on this occasion will be thought by some to have deserved the epithet of "ridiculus." Recollecting the example of his father, he resolved to sacrifice himself for the benefit of his country, and, calling upon the pontiff, he caused his vow to be regularly registered. The ceremony having been gone through, in due form, he put spurs to his horse, and rushing in among the foe, he became, as it were, a scabbard for the swords of all who could get within reach of him. The Gauls were so completely stupified by what they saw, that they were literally lost in wonder; for, while they stood staring with astonishment, the Romans fell upon and massacred nearly the whole of them. Gellius Egnatius, the Samnite General, was slain, together with many thousands of his own countrymen, who are described by tradition as having been once more cut to pieces, though these pieces are not the last in which they are destined to make their appearance. History, with a natural anxiety to keep a stock of Samnites on hand for future use, suggests that 5000 ran away, though the Romans were too much reduced to run after them, and as the fugitives lost a thousand of their number by fighting, during their retreat, it must be presumed that, in their extreme nervousness, they began attacking each other.