Caius Marcius Coriolanus, exiled from Rome by the seditious Tribunes and by his own indomitable pride, so far forgot all patriotic feelings as to engage the Volscians to make war against his country. Here we beg to draw the attention of our young readers to the very different conduct of Themistocles, his contemporary, under similar circumstances. The Volscians, proud of the assistance of such a distinguished hero, made him their general: he took the field with vengeance in his heart. After a great number of victories, he marched straight to Rome, for the purpose of laying siege to it. So bold a design threw the patricians and the people equally into a state of the greatest alarm. Hatred gave way to fear: deputies were sent to Coriolanus, who received them with all the haughtiness of an enemy determined upon making his will the law. The Roman generals, instead of boldly meeting him in the field, exhorted him to grant them peace; they conjured him to have pity on his country, and forget the injuries offered to him by the populace, who were already sufficiently punished by the evils he had inflicted upon them. But they brought back nothing but the stern reply, “that they must restore to the Volscians all they had taken from them, and grant them the right of citizenship.” Other deputies were dismissed in the same manner. The courage of these Romans, so proud and so intrepid, appeared to have passed with Coriolanus over to the side of the Volscians. Obedience to the laws was at an end; military discipline was neglected: they took counsel of nothing but their fear. At length, after many tumultuous deliberations, the ministers of religion were sent to endeavour to bend the will of the angry compatriot. Priests, clothed in their sacred habiliments advanced with mournful steps to the camp of the Volscians, and the most venerable amongst them implored Coriolanus to give peace to his country, and, in the name of the gods, to have compassion on the Romans, his fellow-citizens and brothers: but they found him equally stern and inflexible. When the people saw the holy priests return without success, they indeed supposed the republic lost. They filled the temples, they embraced the altars of the gods, and gathered in clusters about the city, uttering cries and lamentations: Rome presented a picture of profound grief and debasement. Veturia, the mother of Coriolanus, and Volumnia, his wife, saved their unhappy country. They presented themselves before him, and conjured him by all that he held most sacred, to spare a city which had given him birth, and which still contained his mother, his wife, and his children. His mother was a woman of great spirit,—a Roman, almost a Spartan mother: she had, from his boyhood, stimulated him to the performance of noble and heroic deeds: she might be called the parent of his glory, as well as of his vigorous person. Coriolanus loved his mother tenderly, almost idolized her, and could not resist her tears. He raised the siege, and delivered Rome from the greatest alarm it had ever experienced.
FOURTH SIEGE, A.C. 387.
A colony of Gauls, confined for room in their own country, entered upper Italy, under the command of Brennus, three hundred and eighty-seven years before Christ, and laid siege to Clusium, in Tuscany. Accustomed already to command as a master in Italy, Rome sent three ambassadors to Brennus, to inform him that that city was under the protection of the Roman republic. Offended by the rude reply of the Gauls, the ambassadors retired indignantly, but violated the rights of nations by entering Clusium, and assisting in the defence of it. Brennus, highly irritated, demanded satisfaction, and Rome refused to give it. He marched directly against that already superb city. The two armies met on the banks of the river Allia, within half a league of Rome. The Romans, being the less in numbers, extended their ranks, in order not to be surrounded, and by that means weakened their centre. The Gauls, perceiving this, fell with fury on the cohorts of the centre, broke through them, and attacked the wings, whose flanks this opening left exposed. Already conquered by the terror inspired by this bold manœuvre, which bespoke a people accustomed to military tactics, the wings of the Roman army took to flight without drawing sword, and the main body, bewildered by the general rout which ensued, took refuge in Veii, instead of regaining Rome, which offered them the nearest asylum. Thousands of Romans fell under the sword of the Gauls; and if these people had marched straight to the city, instead of lingering to share the spoil, the Roman name would have been at an end. They remained three days engaged in distributing the spoil, and these three days saved Rome, whither the fugitives bore the news of the disaster the army and the consuls had sustained. They rendered the republic aware of what it had to expect from the victorious Gauls. The Senate, in the general alarm, took advantage of the time the barbarians employed in rejoicings for their victory. Not finding a sufficient force to defend the city, they threw all the men capable of bearing arms into the Capitol, and sent away all useless mouths; the old men, women, and children took refuge in the nearest cities. There only remained in Rome a few pontiffs and ancient senators, who, not being willing to survive either their country or its glory, generously devoted themselves to death, to appease, according to their belief, the anger of the infernal gods. These venerable men, in order to preserve to the last sigh the marks of a dignity which they believed would expire with them, put on their sacred vestments or their consular robes, placed themselves at the doors of their houses, in their ivory chairs, and awaited with firmness the decree which Destiny was about to pronounce on Rome. Brennus arrived three days after his victory. Surprised at finding the gates open, the walls without defence, and the houses without inhabitants, he suspected some ambush or stratagem. The continued silence and calm at length reassured him. He placed his points of guard; then, whilst spreading his troops through the quarters of the city, the first objects that met his eyes were the venerable old men who had devoted themselves to death. Their splendid habits, their white beards, their air of grandeur and firmness, their silence even, astonished Brennus, and inspired a religious fear in his army. A Gaul, less touched with this august spectacle and more daring than the rest, ventured to pluck insolently the beard of an ancient senator. The spirited old man dealt him a heavy blow with his ivory staff on the head. The irritated soldier killed the senator, and this became the signal for slaughter; all were massacred in their chairs, and the inhabitants who had not escaped were put to the sword. Brennus attacked the Capitol, but he was repulsed with loss. Despairing of taking it by force, he had recourse to blockade, to reduce it by famine. In order to avenge himself for the resistance offered by the Romans, he set fire to the city; and soon Rome presented nothing but its hills surrounded with smoking ruins.
The Gauls, inflated with their success, believed the whole country to be in a state of terror, and they preserved neither order nor discipline; some wandered about the neighbourhood for the purpose of plunder, whilst others spent both days and nights in drinking. They thought the whole people shut up in the Capitol, but Rome found an avenger in Camillus. This great man, exiled by his ungrateful fellow-citizens, had retired to Ardea. He prevailed upon the young men of that city to follow him. In concert with the magistrates, he marched out on a dark night, fell upon the Gauls stupified with wine, made a horrible slaughter, and thus raised the depressed courage of his fellow-citizens. They flocked in crowds to his standard, and, looking upon Camillus as their only resource, they chose him as their leader. But he refused to do anything without the order of the Senate and the people shut up in the Capitol. It was almost impossible to gain access to them. A young Roman, however, had the hardihood to undertake this perilous enterprise, and succeeded. Camillus, declared dictator, collected an army of more than forty thousand men, who believed themselves invincible under so able a general.
The Gauls, meanwhile, perceived the traces left by the young man, and Brennus endeavoured, during the night, to surprise the Capitol by the same path. After many efforts, a few succeeded in gaining the summit of the rock, and were already on the point of scaling the walls; the sentinel was asleep, and nothing seemed to oppose them. Some geese, consecrated to Juno, were awakened by the noise made by the enemy, and began to cry as they do when disturbed. Manlius, a person of consular rank, flew to the spot, encountered the Gauls, and hurled two of them from the rock. The Romans were roused, and the enemy were driven back; most of them either fell or were thrown from the precipice, and very few of the party engaged regained their camp. The sleepy sentinel was precipitated from the Capitol, and Manlius was highly rewarded. Much irritated at his defeat, Brennus pressed the place still more closely, to augment the famine, which had begun to be felt even in his camp, since Camillus had made himself master of the open country. An accommodation was soon proposed; it was agreed that Brennus should receive a thousand pounds weight of gold, on condition of his raising the siege and leaving the lands of the republic. The gold was brought, but when it was to be weighed, the Gauls made use of false weights. The Romans complained of this; but Brennus, laughing at their remonstrances, threw his sword and baldric into the scale, which counterpoised the gold, adding raillery to injustice. “Woe be to the conquered!” said he, in a barbarous tone. At that very moment Camillus reached the capital, and advanced with a strong escort towards the place of conference. Upon learning what had passed, “Take back this gold to the Capitol,” said he to the Roman deputies; “and you, Gauls,” added he, “retire with your weights and scales; it is with steel only that Romans should redeem their country.” The parties soon proceeded to blows; Camillus brought up his troops, and a furious charge ensued. The Romans, maddened by the sight of their ruined country, made incredible efforts. The Gauls could not withstand them; they were broken, and fled on all sides. Brennus rallied them, raised the siege, and encamped a few miles from Rome. Camillus followed him with characteristic ardour, attacked him afresh, and defeated him. Most of the Gauls were either killed on the field of battle, or massacred in detail by the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages; so that, it is said, a single one did not remain to carry back to his country the news of their defeat. Thus Rome was saved by the valour and ability of an illustrious exile, who, forgetting the injustice and ingratitude of his country, richly merited the title of its second founder.
FIFTH SIEGE, A.C. 211.
This siege, although so short a one as to occupy but little space in our narration, belongs to a very interesting period in the Roman history: it occurred in the course of what are called the Punic wars, which were the contests of two of the most powerful states then in existence, for supremacy. Rome and Carthage were like two suns; they had become too powerful for both to retain their splendour in one hemisphere. They were really the noblest conflicts in which Rome was engaged; there was a rivalry in generals and soldiers worthy of being sustained by the great republic; and though Rome was in the end the conqueror, and her generals were great, it is doubtful whether she can exhibit in her annals so perfect a captain as Hannibal. The Carthaginians suffer, in the opinion of posterity, in another way; the Romans were not only the victors, but the historians; Punic bad faith is proverbial in the Roman language, but we strongly suspect that a Carthaginian Polybius or Livy would have found as many sins against the laws of nations committed by the one party as the other. The man was the painter, and not the lion. Whether it is from want of sympathy with a mere nation of the sword, we know not; but, notwithstanding the great men who illustrated Rome’s armies and senate, we cannot help taking part with Hannibal and his countrymen throughout these wars. Much as we like Cato the Censor in other respects, we cannot but view him, with his figs and his “delenda est Carthago,” as a spiteful old fellow, whom we should very much have liked to see disappointed.
After various and great successes, of which it is not our business to speak, Hannibal, to terrify the Romans, presented himself before their city. The consuls, who had received orders to watch that the republic should receive no injury, felt it their duty to encounter him. When they were on the point of engaging, a violent storm compelled both parties to retire; and the same thing occurred several times; so that Hannibal, believing that he saw in this event something supernatural, said, according to Livy, that sometimes fortune and sometimes his will was always wanting to make him master of Rome. That which still more surprised him was, that whilst he was encamped at one of the gates of the city, the Romans sent an army out of one of the other gates into Spain; and that the very field in which he was encamped was sold at the same time, without that circumstance having diminished the value of it. In order to avenge himself, he put up to auction the goldsmiths’ shops which were around the most public place in Rome, and then retired.
SIXTH SIEGE, A.C. 87.
War being declared against Mithridates, king of Pontus, was the signal of discord between Marius and Sylla. These two rivals, whose animosity knew no bounds, demanded at the same time the command of the army. Sylla obtained it from the Senate, and immediately went to place himself at the head of his troops. Marius took advantage of his absence, and, with the assistance of the tribune Sulpicius, he so excited the people against the nobles, that Sylla was deprived of his command which was conferred upon him. Sylla, far from obeying the sentence of the people, marched straight to Rome with his army, consisting of forty thousand men. This was the first time, since Coriolanus, that this great city had been besieged by one of its own citizens. Destitute of everything, its only defence being a few soldiers got together in haste by Marius, it did not make a long resistance. Sylla entered as an enemy; the multitude mounted upon the roofs of the houses, armed with anything they could lay hold of, and poured such a shower of stones and tiles upon the heads of his soldiers, that they could not advance. Sylla, forgetful of what he owed to his country and to himself, cried out to his men to set fire to the houses; and, arming himself with a blazing brand, gave them the example. Marius, too weak to contend with his rival, abandoned to him the centre of the empire. The conqueror affected great moderation, prevented the pillage of his country, reformed the government, raised the authority of the Senate upon the ruins of that of the people, put to death Sulpicius, with ten other senators, partisans of his rival, and embarked for Asia.