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*^i^«ri4!ii^ii^ii0«iiii^i^iiiSi^i«is^ii^ii^ife.i!i^ 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. | 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 GEORGE MOREY RICHARDSON. 
 
 Received, n/Jugust, i8g8. 
 <iAccession No. 7A3..7J/ Class No 
 
LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME 
 
 M'lTH 
 
 IVRY AND THE ARMADA 
 
 BY 
 
 LORD MACAU LAY 
 
 T:*.FtQ>'INl\0^. 
 
 LONDON 
 LONGMANS, G R E E N, A N D CO. 
 
 1S84 
 
7337^ 
 
/ OF T5K 
 
 f TJNIVERSITY 
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IfHAT what is called the history of the Kings and early Consuls of 
 4w Rome is to a great extent fabulous, few scholars have, since the 
 time of Beaufort, ventured to deny. It is certain that, more than 
 three hundred and sixty years after the date ordinarily assigned for 
 the foundation of the city, the public records were, with scarcely an 
 exception, destroyed by the Gauls. It is certain that the oldest annals of the 
 commonwealth were compiled more than a century and a half after this destruction 
 of the records. Tt is certain, therefore, that the great Latin writers of the Augustan 
 age did not possess those materials, without which a trustworthy account of the 
 .infancy of the republic could not possibly be framed. Those writers own, indeed, 
 that the chronicles to which they had access were filled with battles thatwere 
 never fought, and Consuls that were never inaugurated ; and we ha\e abundant 
 proof that, in these chronicles, events of the greatest importance, such as the issue 
 of the ^\•ar with Porsena, and the issue of the war with Brennus, were grossly 
 misrepresented. Under these circumstances, a wise man will look with great 
 suspicion on the legend which has come down to us. lie will perhaps be inclined 
 to regard the princes who are said to have founded the civil and religious institu- 
 tions of Rome, the son of Mars, and the husband of Egeria, as mere mythological 
 personages, of the same class with Perseus and Ixion. As he draws nearer and 
 nearer to the confines of authentic history, he will become less and less hard of 
 belief. He will admit that the most important parts of the narrative have some 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 foundation in truth. But he will distrust almost all the details, not only because 
 they seldom rest on any solid evidence, but also because he will constantly detect 
 in them, even when they are within the limits of physical possibility, that peculiar 
 character, more easily understood than defined, which distinguishes the creations 
 of the imagination from the realities of the world in which we live. 
 
 The early history of Rome is indeed far more poetical than anything else in 
 Latin literature. The loves of the Vestal and the God of War, the cradle laid 
 among the reeds of Tiber, the fig-tree, the she-wolf, the shepherd's cabin, the 
 recognition, the fratricide, the rape of the Sabines, the death of Tarpeia, the 
 fall of Hostus Hostilius, the struggle of Mettus Curtius through the marsh, the 
 women rushing with torn raiment and dishevelled hair between their fathers and 
 their husbands, the nightly meetings of Numa and the Nymph by the well in the 
 sacred grove, the fight of the three Romans and the three Albans, the purchase of 
 the Sibylline books, the crime of Tullia, the simulated madness of Brutus, the 
 ambiguous reply of the Delphian oracle to the Tarquins, the wrongs of Lucretia, 
 the heroic actions of Horatius Codes, of Scaevola, and of Cloelia, the battle of 
 Regillus won by the aid of Castor and Pollux, the defence of Cremera, the touch- 
 ing story of Coriolanus, the still more touching story of Virginia, the wild legend 
 about the draining of the Alban lake, the combat between Valerius CorVus and 
 the gigantic Gaul, are among the many instances which will at once suggest them- 
 selves to every reader. 
 
 In the narrative of Livy, who was a man of fine imagination, these stories retain 
 much of their genuine character. Nor could even the tasteless Dionysius distort 
 and mutilate them into mere prose. The poetry shines, in spite of him, through 
 the dreary pedantry of his eleven books. It is discernible in the most tedious and 
 in the most superficial modern works on the early times of Rome. It enlivens the 
 dulness of the Universal History, and gives a charm to the most meagre abridg- 
 ments of Goldsmith. 
 
 Even in the age of Plutarch there were discerning men who rejected the popular 
 account of the foundation of Rome, because that account appeared to them to 
 have the air, not of a history, but of a romance or a drama. Plutarch, who was 
 displeased at their incredulity, had nothing better to say in reply to their argu-. 
 ments than that chance sometimes turns poet, and produces trains of events not 
 to be distinguished from the most elaborate plots which are constructed by art.* 
 But though the existence of a poetical element in the early history of the Great 
 City was detected so many years ago, the first critic who distinctly saw from what 
 source that poetical element had been derived was James Perizonius, one of the 
 most acute and learned antiquaries of the seventeenth century. His theor)', which, 
 
 * "YiroTTTcv fj.iv en'ot? ecrTLTO Spafx-aTiKov Kai n\a(TfiaTdSi<;' ov Sei ie aTna-nlv, rqv Tv'xrjf bpiivras, o'lmv jroirjfiii- 
 Twv 5r)fiiovpyri? i.aTi.~Plut. Rom. viii. This remarkable passage has been more gro-sly misinterpreted than any 
 other in the Greek language, where tlie sense was so obvious. The Latin version of Crusenus, the French 
 version of Amyot, the old English version by several hands, and the later English version bji Langhornc, are 
 all equally destitute of every trace of the meaning of the original. None of the translators saw even that 
 TToi'rj^ia is a poem. They ail render it an event. 
 
PREFACE. 5 
 
 in his own days, attracted little or no notice, was revived in the present generation 
 by Niebuhr, a man who would have been the first writer of his time, if his talent 
 for communicating truths had borne any proportion to his talent for in\estigating 
 them. That theory has been adopted by several eminent scholars of our own 
 countiy, particularly by the Bishop of St. David's, by Professor Maiden, and by 
 the lamented Arnold. It appears to be now generall)' received by men conversant 
 with classical antiquity ; and indeed it rests on such strong proofs, both internal 
 and external, that it will not be easily subverted. A popular exposition of this 
 theory, and of the evidence by which it is supported, may not be without interest 
 e\en for readers who are unacquainted with the ancient languages. 
 
 The Latin literature which has come down to us is of later date than the 
 commencement of the Second Punic War, and consists almost exclusively of works 
 fashioned on Greek models. The Latin metres, heroic, elegiac, lyric, and dramatic, 
 are of Greek origin. The best Latin epic poetry is the feeble echo of the Iliad 
 and Odyssey. The best Latin eclogues are imitations of Theocritus. The plan 
 of the most finished didactic poem in the Latin tongue was taken from Hesiod. 
 The Latin tragedies are bad copies of the masterpieces of Sophocles and Euripides. 
 The Latin comedies are free translations from Demophilus, Menander, and 
 Apollodorus. The Latin philosophy was borrowed, without alteration, from the 
 Portico and the Academy ; and the great Latin orators constantly proposed to 
 themselves as patterns the speeches of Demosthenes and Lysias. 
 
 But there was an earlier Latin literature, a literature truly Latin, which has wholly 
 perished, which had, indeed, almost wholly perished long before those whom we 
 are in the habit of regarding as the greatest Latin writers were born. That litera- 
 ture abounded with metrical romances, such as are found in e\ery countr}' where 
 there is much curiosity andlntelligence, but little reading and writing. All human 
 beings, iiot utterly savage, long for some information about past times, and are 
 delighted by narratives \\hich present pictures to the eye of the mind. But it is 
 only in very enlightened communities that books are readily accessible. Metrical 
 composition, therefore, which, in a highly civilised nation, is a mere luxury, is, in 
 nations imperfectly civilised, almost a necessary of life, and is valued less on 
 account of the pleasure which it gives to the ear, than on account of the help 
 which it gives to the memor}'. A man who can invent or embellish an interesting 
 story, and put it into a form which others may easily retain in their recollection, 
 will always be highly esteemed by a people eager for amusement and information, 
 but destitute of libraries. Such is the origin of ballad-poetr)-, a species of com- 
 position which scarcely ever fails to spring up and flourish in eveiy society, at a 
 certain point in the progress towards refinement. Tacitus informs us that songs 
 w ere the only memorials of the past which the ancient Germans possessed. We 
 learn from Lucan and from Ammianus Marcellinus that the brave actions of the 
 ancient (iauls were commemorated in the verses of Bards. During many ages, 
 and through many revolutions, minstrelsy retained its influence over Ijoih the 
 Teutonic and the Celtic race. I'lie \engeance exacted by the spouse of Altila for 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 the murder of Siegfried was celebrated in rhymes, of which Germany is still justly 
 proud. The exploits of Athelstane were commemorated by the Anglo-Saxons, 
 and those of Canute by the Danes, in rude poems, of which a few fragments have 
 come down to us. The chants of the Welsh harpers preserved, through ages of 
 darkness, a faint and doubtful memory of Arthur. In the Highlands of Scotland 
 may still be gkaned some relics of the old songs about Cuthullin and Fingal. The 
 long struggle of the Servians against the Ottoman power was recorded in lays full 
 of martial spirit. We learn from Herrera that, when a Peruvian Inca died, men 
 of skill were appointed to celebrate him in verses, which all the people learned by 
 heart, and sang in public on days of festival. The feats of Kurroglou, the great 
 freebooter of Turkistan, recounted in ballads composed by himself, are known in 
 every village of Northern Persia. Captain Beechey heard the Bards of the Sand- 
 wich Islands recite the heroic achievements of Tamehameha, the most illustrious 
 of their kings. Mungo Park found in the heart of Africa a class of singing-men, 
 the only annalists of their rude tribes, and heard them tell the story of the victory 
 which Damel, the negro prince of the Jaloffs, won over Abdulkader, the Mussul- 
 man tyrant of Foota Torra. This species of poetry attained a high degree of 
 excellence among the Castilians, before they began to copy Tuscan patterns. It 
 attained a still higher degree of excellence among the English and the Lowland 
 Scotch, during the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. But it reached 
 its full perfection in ancient Greece ; for there can be no doubt that the great 
 Homeric poems are generically ballads, though widely distinguished from all 
 other ballads, and indeed from almost all other human compositions, by tran- 
 scendent sublimity and beauty. 
 
 As it is agreeable to general experience that, at a certain stage in the progress 
 of society, ballad-poetry should flourish, so is it also agreeable to general experi- 
 ence that, at a subsequent stage in the progress of society, ballad-poetry should 
 be undervalued and neglected. Knowledge advances : manners change : great 
 foreign models of composition are studied and imitated. The phraseology of the 
 old minstrels becomes obsolete. Their versification, which, having received its 
 laws only from the ear, abounds in irregularities, seems licentious and uncouth. 
 Their simplicity appears beggarly when compared with the quaint forms and 
 gaudy colouring of such artists as Cowley and Gongora. The ancient lays, unjustly 
 despised by the learned and polite, linger for a time in the memory of the vulgar, 
 and are at length too often irretrievably lost. We cannot wonder that the ballads 
 of Rome should have altogether disappeared, when we remember how very narrowly, 
 in spite of the invention of printing, those of our own country and those of Spain 
 escaped the same fate. There is indeed little doubt that oblivion covers many 
 I English songs equal to any that were published by Bishop Percy, and many 
 Spanish songs as good as the best of those which ha\e been so happily translated 
 by Mr. Lockhart. Eighty years ago England possessed only one tattered copy of 
 Childe Waters and Sir Cauline, and Spain only one tattered copy of the noble 
 poem of the Cid, The snuff of a candle, or a mischievous dog, might in a moment 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 have deprived the world for ever of any of those fine compositions. Sir Walter 
 Scott, who united to the fire of a great poet the minute curiosity and patient dili- 
 gence of a great antiquarj-, was but just in time to save the precious relics of the 
 Minstrelsy of the Border. In Germany, the lay of the Nibelungs had been long 
 utterly forgotten, when, in the eighteenth centuiy, it was, for the first time, printed 
 from a manuscript in the old library of a noble family. In truth, the only people 
 who, through their whole passage from simplicity to the highest civilisation, never 
 for a moment ceased to love and admire their old ballads, were the Greeks. 
 
 That the early Romans should ha\e had ballad-poetry, and that this poetry 
 should have perished, is therefore not strange. It would, on the contrarj-, have 
 been strange if these things had not come to pass ; and we should be justified in 
 pronouncing them highly probable, even if we had no direct evidence on the subject. 
 But we have direct evidence of unquestionable authority. 
 
 Ennius, who flourished in the time of the Second Punic War, was regarded in 
 the Augustan age as the father of Latin poetry. He was, in truth, the father of 
 the second school of Latin poetr)-, the only school of which the works ha\e de- 
 scended to us. But from Ennius himself we learn that there were poets who stood 
 to him in the same relation in which the author of the romance of Count Alarcos 
 stood to Garcilaso, or the author of the ' Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode ' to Lord 
 Surrey. Ennius speaks of \erses which the Fauns and the Bards were wont to 
 chant in the old time, when none had yet studied the graces of speech, when none 
 had yet climbed the peaks sacred to the Goddesses of Grecian song. ' Where,' 
 Cicero mournfully asks, ' are those old verses now ? ' * 
 
 Contemporary with Ennius was Quintus Fabius Pictor, the earliest of the 
 Roman annalists. His account of the infancy and youth of Romulus and Remus 
 has been preserved by Dionysius, and contains a very remarkable reference to the 
 ancient Latin poetry. Fabius says that, in his time, his countrj'men were still in 
 the habit of singing ballads about the Twins. 'Even in the hut of Faustulus,' — ■ 
 so these old lays appear to have run, — ' the children of Rhea and Mars were, in 
 port and in spirit, not like unto swineherds or cowherds, but such that men might 
 well guess them to be of the blood of Kings and Gods.' f 
 
 * 'Quid? Nostri veteres vei-Mis ubi sun: ? 
 
 " Quos olim Fauni vatesque canebant 
 
 Cum neque IMiisanini scopulos qtiisquam superarat, 
 
 Ncc dicti studiosus erat." ' Bruius. xviii. 
 
 The Muses, it should be ob'^erved, are Greek divinities. The Italian Goddesses of verse «erc the ('aincens. 
 At a later period, the appellations were u~ed indiscriminately; but in the age of ICnnius there was probably a 
 distinction. In the epitaph of Naivius, who was the representative of the old Ita ian school of poetry, the 
 Camoeiia;, not the Muses, are represented as grieving for the loss of their voiaiy. The ' Musariim scopiili' are 
 evidently the peaks of Parnassus. 
 
 Scaliger, in a note on Varro (^Dc Lingua Latiiia, lib. vi.), suggests, with great ingenuity, that the Fauns, 
 who were represented by (he superst tion of later ages as a race of monsters, half gods and half brutes, may 
 really have been a class of men who exercised in Latium, at a very remote period, the same functions which 
 belonged to the Magians in Persia and to the Bards in Gaul. 
 
 t_Oi &i ap8p(ti6ii^6<; yivoi'Tai, koto. t( ofiwcrii' /iopif,^? Kai i/ipoi'rjiuaTOs (iyicoi-, ov (Tvo<f)OpPoi^ Ka\ ^ouKoXois fotKo'. '. 
 T€5, aAA' olov^ av ti? a^iuiafic tov? t*c ^aflrtAet'ov re (^lirra? yerou?, Ka\ anh 6a(//or(ur (jTropa? yiv^aOnL ro^i^ofxerov^, I 
 oiS ef TOi? TTaxpiois iJ/ii/ot? VTrb 'I'wfiaiwi' fxt (cal viiv a&fTai — Dion. Jlni. i. -(>. This passage has sometimes 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 Cato the Censor, who also lived in the days of the Second Punic War, men- 
 tioned this lost hterature in his lost work on the antiquities of his country. Many 
 ages, he said, before his time, there were ballads in praise of illustrious men ; and 
 these ballads it was the fashion for the guests at banquets to sing in turn while the 
 piper played. ' Would,' exclaims Cicero, ' that we still had the old ballads of which 
 Cato speaks ! ' * 
 
 Valerius Maximus gives us exactly similar information, without mentioning his 
 authority, and observes that the ancient Roman ballads were probably of more 
 benefit to the )-oung than all the lectures of the Athenian schools, and that to the 
 influence of the national poetry were to be ascribed the virtues of such men as 
 Camillus and Fabricius.f ' 
 
 Varro, whose authority on all questions connected with the antiquities of his 
 countr}' is entitled to the greatest respect, tells us that at banquets it was once the 
 
 been cited as if Dionysius had been speaking in his own person, and had, Greek as he was, been so industrious 
 or so fortunate as to discover some valuable remains of that early Latin poetry which the greatest Latin writers 
 of iiis age regretted as hopelessly lost. Such a .supposition is highly impiobable ; and indeed it seems clear 
 from the conte.xt that Dionysius, as Reiske and other editors evidently thought, was merely quoting from 
 Fabius Pictor. The whole passage has the air of an extract from an ancient chronicle, and is introduced by 
 the words, KoiVro; ixev <I>a^ios, 6 UCktu>p Aeyo/xevo?, TrjSi ypdtpei. 
 
 Another argument m.ay be urged which seems to deserve consideration. The author of the passage in 
 question mentions a thatched hut which, in his time, stood between the summit of I\Iount Palatine and the 
 Circus. This hut, he says, was built by Romulus, and was constantly kept in repair at the public charge, but 
 never in any respect embellished. Now, in the age of Dionysius there certainly was at Rome a thatched hut, 
 said to have been that of Romubis. But this hut, as we learn from Vitruvius, stood, not near the Circus, but 
 in the Capitol, (r//. ii i.) If, therefore, we understand Dionysius to speak in his owri person, we can re- 
 concile his statement with that of Vitruvius only by supposing that there were at Rome, in the Augustan age, 
 two thatched huis, both believed to have besn built by Romulus, and both c.irefnlly repaired and held in high 
 honour. The objections to such a supposition seem to be strong. Neither Dionysiiis nor Vitruvius speaks of 
 more than one such hut. Dio Cassius informs us that twice, during the long administration of Augustus, the 
 hut of Romulus caught fire (.\lviii, 43, liv. 29). Had there been two such huts, would he not have told us of 
 which he sp<jke ? An English historian would'hardly give an account of a fire at Queen's College without saying 
 whether it was at Queen's College, Oxford, or at Queen's College, Cambridge. Marcus Seneca, Macrobius. 
 and Conon, a Greek writer from whom Photius has made large extracts, mention only one hut of Romulus, that 
 in the Capitol. (M. Se/tec/i, Ccntr. \. 6 ; iMacrcbius. Sat. i. 15; Phothis. BiH. 186.) Ovid, Livy, Petronius, 
 Valerius Miximus, Lucms Seneca, and St. Jerome mention only one hut of Romulus, without specifying the 
 site. (Ovid. Fasti, iii. 183; Liv. v. 53; Petratn'iis, Fragiii.; Val. Max. iv. 4 ; L. Seneca, Consolatio aii 
 Helviajn; D. Hieron. ad Pniiliiiianiun de Didyiito.) 
 
 The whole difficulty is removed if we suppose that Dionysius was merely quoting Fabius Pictor. Nothing 
 is more probable than that the cabin, which in the time of Fabius stood near the Circus, might, long before the 
 age of Augustus, have been transported to the Capitol, as the place fittest, by reason both of its safety and of 
 its sanctity, to contain so precious a relic. 
 
 The language of Plutarch confirms this hypothesis. He describes, with great precision, the spot where 
 Romulus dwelt, on the slope of Mount Palatine leading to the Circus ; but he says not a word implying that 
 the dwelling was still to be seen there. Indeed, his expressions imply that it was no longer theie. The evidence 
 of Solinus is still more to the point. He, like Plutarch, describes the spot where Romulus had resided, and says 
 express y that the hut bad been there, but that in his tim- it was there no longer. The site, it is certain, was 
 well remembered ; and probably retained its old name, as Charing Cross and the Haymarket have done. This 
 is probably the explanation of the words, ' Casa Romuli," in Victor's description of the Tenth Region of 
 Rome, under Valentinian. 
 
 * Cicero refers twice to this import.int passage in Cato's Antiquities : — ' Gravissimus auctor in Originibus ; 
 dixit Cato, morem apud majnres liunc epularum fuisse, ut deinceps, qui .iccubarent, canerent ad tibiamclarorum 
 virorum lai-.des atque virtutes. Ex quo perspicuum est, et cantus tnm fuisse rescriplos vocum sonis, et carmina.' 
 — Tksc. Qiia-'t. iv. 2. Again: ' Utinam exstarent ilia carmina, quae, multis .sseculis ante suam setatem, in 
 epulis esse cantitata a singulis convivis de clarorum virorum laudibus, in Originibus scriptum reliquit Cato." — 
 Brutus, xix. 
 
 t ' Mrijores natu in conviviis ad tibias egregia superionim opera carmine comprehensa pangebant, quo ad ea 
 imitanda juventutem alacriorem redderent. . . . Quas .-Vthenas, quam scbo^am, quae ajienigena studia huic 
 domesticae disciplinae prastulerim ? Inde oriebantur Camilli, Scipiones, Fabricii, Marcelli, Fabii.' — Val. Max. 
 ii. I, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 fashion for boys to sing, sometimes with and sometimes without instrumental 
 music, ancient ballads in praise of men of former times. These young performers, 
 he observes, were of unblemished character, a circumstance which he probably 
 mentioned because, among the Greeks, and indeed in his time among the Romans 
 also, the morals of singing-boys were in no high repute.* 
 
 The testimony of Horace, though given incidentally, confirms the statements of 
 Cato, Valerius Maximus, and Varro. The poet predicts that, under the peaceful 
 administration of Augustus, the Romans will, over their full goblets, sing to the 
 pipe, after the fashion of their fathers, the deeds of brave captains, and the ancient 
 legends touching the origin of the city, f 
 
 The proposition, then, that Rome had ballad-poetry, is not merely in itself highly 
 probable, but is fully proved by direct evidence of the greatest weight. 
 
 This proposition being established, it becomes easy to understand why the 
 early history of the city is unlike almost everything else in Latin literature, nati\-e 
 where almost everything else is borrowed, imaginative where almost everything 
 else is prosaic. We can scarcely hesitate to pronounce that the magnificent, 
 pathetic, and truly national legends, which present so striking a contrast to all that 
 surrounds them, are broken and defaced fragments of that early poetry which, even 
 in the age of Cato the Censor, had become antiquated, and of which Tully had 
 never heard a line. 
 
 That this poetry should have been suffered to perish will not appear strange 
 when we consider how complete was the triumph of the Greek genius over the 
 public mind of Italy. It is probable that, at an early period. Homer and Hero- 
 dotus furnished some hints to the Latin minstrels ; J but it was not till after the war 
 with Pyrrhus that the poetry of Rome began to put off its old Ausonian character. 
 The transformation was soon consummated. The conquered, says Horace, led 
 captive the conquerors. It was precisely at the time at which the Roman people 
 rose to unrivalled political ascendancy that they stooped to pass under the in- 
 tellectual yoke. It was precisely at the time at which the sceptre departed from 
 Greece that the empire of her language and of her arts became universal and 
 despotic. The revolution indeed was not effected without a struggle. Nasvius 
 seems to have been the last of the ancient line of poets. Ennius was the founder 
 of a new dynasty. Nasvius celebrated the First Punic War in Saturnian verse, 
 
 * ' In conviviis pueri niodesti ut caiitarent carmina antiqua, in quibus laudes eiant majorum, et assa voce, 
 et cum tibicine.' Nonius, Asset voce pro so/a. 
 
 t ' Nosque et profestis lucibus et sacris. 
 Inter jocosi munera Liberi, 
 Cum prole matronisque nostris, 
 Rite Deos pnus apprecati, 
 V'irtute t'unctos, more patrum, duces, 
 Lydis remixto carmine tibiis, 
 Trojamque, et Anchisen, et almae 
 Progeniem Veneris caneraus.' 
 
 Carvi. iv. 15. 
 X See the Preface to the Lay of the V.attle of Regilliis. 
 
lo PREFACE. 
 
 the old national verse of Italy.* Ennius sang the Second Punic War in numbers 
 borrowed from the Iliad. The elder poet, in the epitaph which he wrote for 
 himself, and which is a fine specimen of the early Roman diction and versification, 
 plaintively boasted that the Latin language had died with him.f Thus what to 
 Horace appeared to be the first faint dawn of Roman literature, appeared to 
 
 * Cicero speaks highly in more than one place of this poem of Na;vius ; Ennius sneered at it, and stole 
 from it. 
 
 As to the Saturnian measure, see Hermann's Elevienta Doctrince Mctrictr, iii. g. 
 
 The Saturnian line, according to the grammarians, consisted of two pans. 'I'he first was acatalectic dimeter 
 iambic ; the second was composed of three trochees. But the licence taken by the early Latin poets seems to 
 have been almost boundless. The most perfect Saturnian line which has been preserved was the work, not of a 
 professional artist, but of an amateur: 
 
 ' Dabunt malum IMetelli Nsevio poetae.' 
 
 There has been much difference of opinion among learned men respecting the history of this measure. That 
 it is the same with a Greek measure used by Archilochus is indisputable. {Bcntlcy, Fhalan's, .xi.) But in 
 spite of the authority of Terentianus Maurus, and of the still higher authority of Bentley, we may venture to 
 doubt whether the coincidence was not fortuitous. We constantly find the same rude and simple numbers in 
 different countries, under circumstances which make it impossible to suspect that there has been imitation on 
 either side. Bishop Heber heard the children of a village in Bengal singing ' Radha, Radha,' to the tune of 
 'My boy Billy.' Neither the Castilian nor the German minstrels of the Middle Ages owed anything to Pares or 
 to ancient Rome. Yet both the poem of the Cid and the poem of the Nibelungs contain many Saturnian 
 
 verses ; as — . . . , , 
 
 ' Estas nuevas a mio Cid eran venidas. 
 
 'X mi lo dicen ; a ti dan las orejades.' 
 
 ' Man muhte michel wunder von Sifride sagen.' 
 ' Wa ich den Kiinic vinde daz sol nuin mir sagen.' 
 
 Indeed there cannot be a more perfect Saturnian line than one which is sung in every English nursery— 
 
 ' The queen was in her parlour eating bread and honey ; ' 
 
 yet the author of this line, we may be assured, borrowed nothing from either Naevius or Archilochus. 
 
 On the other hand, it is by no means improbable that, two or three hundred years before the time of Ennius, 
 some Latin minstrel may have visited Sybaris or Crotona, may have heard some verses of Archilochus sung, 
 may have been pleased with the metre, and may have introduced it at Rome. Thus much is certain, that the 
 Saturnian measure, if not a native of Italy, was at least so early and so completely naturalised there that its 
 foreign origin was forgotten. 
 
 Bentley says indeed that the Saturnian measure was first brought from Greece into Italy by Nsevius. But 
 this is merely obiter dictum., to use a phrase common in our courts of law, and would not have been delibe- 
 rately maintained by that incomparable critic, whose memory is held in reverence by all lovers of learning. 
 The arguments which might be brought against Bentley's assertion — for it is mere assertion, supported by no 
 evidence — are innumerable. A few will suffice. 
 
 1. Hentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Ennius. Ennius sneered at Njevius for writing on the 
 First Punic War in verses such as the old Italian bards used before Greek literature had been studied. Now 
 the poem of Naevius was in Saturnian verse. Is it possible that Ennius could have used such expressions if the 
 Saturnian verse had been just imported from Greece for the first time? 
 
 2. Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Horace. ' When Greece,' says Horace, ' introduced 
 her arts into our uncivilised country, those rugged .Saturnian numbers passed away.' Would Horace have 
 said this if the Saturnian numbers had been imported from Greece just before the hexameter? 
 
 3: Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of Festus and of Anrclius Victor, both of whom positively 
 say that the most ancient prophecies attributed to the Fauns were in S.-iturnian verse. 
 
 4. Bentley's assertion is opposed to the testimony of 'I'erentianus Maurus, to whom he has himself appealed. 
 Terentianus Maurus does indeed say that the Saturnian measure, though believed by the Romans from a very 
 early period ('credidit vetustas') to be of Italian invention, was really borrowed from the Greeks. But Teren- 
 tianus Maurus does not say that it was first borrowed by Na;vius. Nay, the expressions used by Terentianus 
 Maurus clearly imply the contrary : for how could the Romans have believed, from a very early period, that 
 this measure was the indigenous production of Latinni, if it was really brought over from Greece in an age 
 of intelligence and liberal curiosity, in the age which gave birth to Ennius, Plautus, Cato the Censor, and other 
 distinguished writers? If Bentley's assertion were correct, there could have been no more doubt at Rome 
 about the Greek origin of the Saturnian measure than about the Greek origin of hexameters or Sapphics. 
 
 t .'Vulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae, i. 24. 
 
PREFACE. ^«»«*^- J J 
 
 Nfevius to be its hopeless setting. In triuh, one literature was setting, and another 
 da^\■ning. 
 
 The victory of the foreign taste was decisive : and indeed we can hardly blame 
 the Romans for turning away with contempt from the rude lays which had de- 
 lighted their fathers, and giving their whole admiration to the immortal productions 
 of Greece. The national romances, neglected by the great and the refined whose 
 education had been finished at Rhodes or Athens, continued, it may be supposed, 
 during some generations, to delight the vulgar. While Virgil, in hexameters of 
 exquisite modulation, described the sports of rustics, those rustics were still singing" 
 their wild Saturnian ballads.* It is not improbable that, at the time when Cicero 
 lamented the irreparable loss of the poems mentioned by Cato, a search among 
 the nooks of the Apennines, as active as the search which Sir Walter Scott made 
 among the descendants of the mosstroopers of Liddesdale, might have brought to 
 light many fine remains of ancient minstrelsy. No such search was made. The 
 Latin ballads perished for ever. Yet discerning critics have thought that they 
 could still perceive in the early history of Rome numerous fragments of this lost 
 poetry, as the traveller on classic ground sometimes finds, built into the heavy 
 wall of a fort or convent, a pillar rich with acanthus leaves, or a frieze where the 
 Amazons and Bacchanals seem to live. The theatres and temples of the 
 Greek and the Roman were degraded into the quarries of the Turk and the Goth. 
 Even so did the ancient Saturnian poetry become the quarry in which a crowd of 
 orators and annalists found the materials for their prose. 
 
 It is not difficult to trace the process by which the old songs were transmuted 
 into the form which they now wear. Funeral panegyric and chronicle appear to 
 have been the intermediate links which connected the lost ballads with the histories 
 now extant. From a very early period it was the usage that an oration should be 
 pronounced over the remains of a noble Roman. The orator, as we learn from 
 Polybius, was expected, on such an occasion, to recapitulate all the services which 
 the ancestors of the deceased had, from the earliest time, rendered to the common- 
 wealth. There can be little doubt that the speaker on whom this duty was imposed 
 would make use of all the stories suited to his purpose which were to be found in 
 the popular lays. There can be as little doubt that the family of an eminent man 
 would preserve a copy of the speech which had been pronounced over his corpse. 
 The compilers of the early chronicles would have recourse to these speeches ; and 
 the great historians of a later period would have recourse to the chronicles. 
 
 It may be worth while to select a particular story, and to trace its probable 
 progress through these stages. The description of the migration of the Fabian 
 house to Cremera is one of the finest of the many fine passages which lie thick in 
 the earlier books of Livy. The Consul, clad in his military garb, stands in the 
 vestibule of his house, marshalling his clan, three hundred and six fighting men, 
 all of the same proud patrician blood, all worthy to be attended by the fasces, and 
 to command the legions. A sad and anxious retinue of friends accompanies the 
 
 * See Servius, in Gecrg. ii. 385, 
 
12 PREFACE. 
 
 adventurers through the streets ; but the voice of lamentation is drowned by the 
 shouts of admiring thousands. As the procession passes the Capitol, prayers and 
 vows are poured forth, but in vain. The devoted band, leaving Janus on the right, 
 marches to its doom through the Gate of Evil Luck. After achieving high deeds 
 of valour against overwhelming numbers, all perish save one child, the stock from 
 which the great Fabian race was destined again to spring for the safety and glor)' 
 of the commonwealth. That this fine romance, the details of which are so full of 
 poetical truth, and so utterly destitute of all show of historical truth, came originally 
 from some lay which had often been sung with great applause at banquets, is in 
 the highest degree probable. Nor is it difficult to imagine a mode in which the 
 transmission might have taken place. 
 
 The celebrated Quintus Fabius Maximus, who died about twenty years before 
 the First Punic War, and more than forty years before Ennius was born, is said to 
 have been interred with extraordinary pomp. In the eulogy pronounced over his 
 body all the great exploits of his ancestors were doubtless recounted and exag- 
 gerated. If there were then extant songs which gave a vivid and touching descrip- 
 tion of an event, the saddest and the most glorious in the long history of the Fabian 
 house, nothing could be more natural than that the panegyrist should borrow from 
 such songs their finest touches, in order to adorn his speech. A few generations 
 later the songs would perhaps be forgotten, or remembered only by shepherds and 
 vine-dressers. But the speech would certainly be preserved in the archives of the 
 Fabian nobles. Fabius Pictor would be well acquainted with a document so inter- 
 esting to his personal feelings, and would insert large extracts from it in his rude 
 chronicle. That chronicle, as we know, was the oldest to which Livy had access. 
 Livy would at a glance distinguish the bold strokes of the forgotten poet from the 
 dull and feeble narrative by which they were surrounded, would retouch them with 
 a delicate and powerful pencil, and would make them immortal. 
 
 That this might happen at Rome can scarcely be doubted ; for something very 
 like this has happened in several countries, and, among others, in our own. 
 Perhaps the theory of Perizonius cannot be better illustrated than by showing that 
 what he supposes to have taken place in ancient times has, beyond all doubt, taken 
 place in modern times. 
 
 ' History,' says Hume with the utmost gravity, 'has preserved some instances 
 of Edgar's amours, from which, as from a specimen, we may form a conjecture of 
 the rest.' He then tells very agreeably the stories of Elfleda and Elfrida, two 
 stories which have a most suspicious air of romance, and which indeed greatly 
 resemble, in their general character, some of the legends of early Rome. He cites, 
 as his authority for these two tales, the chronicle of William of Malmesbury, who 
 lived in the time of King Stephen. The great majority of readers suppose that 
 the device by which Elfrida was substituted for her young mistress, the artifice by 
 which Athelwold obtained the hand of Elfrida, the detection of that artifice, the 
 hunting party, and the vengeance of the amorous king, are things about which 
 thet-e is no more doubt than about the execution of Anne Boleyn, or the slitting of 
 
PREFACE. 13 
 
 Sir John Coventry's nose. But when we turn to WilHam of Mahnesbury, we find 
 that Hume, in his eagerness to relate these pleasant fables, has overlooked one 
 very important circumstance. William does indeed tell both the stories ; but he 
 gives us distinct notice that he does not warrant their truth, and that they rest on 
 no better authority than that of ballads.* 
 
 Such is the way in which these two well-known tales have been handed down. 
 They originally appeared in a poetical form. They found their way from ballads 
 into an old chronicle. The ballads perished ; the chronicle remained. A great 
 historian, some centuries after the ballads had been altogether forgotten, consulted 
 the chronicle. He was struck by the lively colouring of these ancient fictions ; he 
 transferred them to his pages ; and thus we find inserted, as unquestionable facts, 
 in a narrative which is likely to last as long as the English tongue, the inventions 
 of some minstrel whose works were probably ne^^er committed to writing, whose 
 name is buried in oblivion, and whose dialect has become obsolete. It must, then, 
 be admitted to be possible, or rather highly probable, that the stories of Romulus 
 and Remus, and of the Horatii and Curiatii, may have had a similar origin. 
 
 Castilian literature will furnish us with another parallel case. Mariana, the 
 classical historian of Spain, tells the story of the ill-starred marriage which the 
 King Don Alonso brought about between the heirs of Carrion and the two 
 daughters of the Cid. The Cid bestowed a princely dower on his sons-in-law. 
 But the young men were base and proud, cowardly and cruel. They were tried in 
 danger, and found wanting. They fled before the Moors, and once, when a lion 
 broke out of his den, they ran and crouched in an unseemly hiding-place. They 
 knew that they were despised, and took counsel how they might be avenged. 
 They parted from their father-in-law with many signs of lo\e, and set forth on a 
 journey with Doiia Elvira and Doiia Sol. In a solitary place the bridegrooms 
 seized their brides, stripped them, scourged them, and departed, leaving them for 
 dead. But one of the house of Bivar, suspecting foul play, had followed the 
 travellers in disguise. The ladies were brought back safe to the house of their 
 father. Complaint was made to the king. It was adjudged by the Cortes that 
 the dower given by the Cid should be returned, and that the heirs of Carrion 
 together with one of their kindred should do battle against three knights of the 
 party of the Cid. The guilty youths would have declined the combat ; but all 
 their shifts were vain. They were vanquished in the lists, and for ever disgraced, 
 while their injured wives were sought in marriage by great princes. f 
 
 Some Spanish writers have laboured to show, by an examination of dates and 
 circumstances, that this story is untrue. Such confutation was surely not needed ; 
 for the narrative is on the face of it a romance. How it found its way into 
 Mariana's history is quite clear. He acknowledges his obligations to the ancient 
 
 * ' Infamias quas post dicam magis resper?erunt canlilenst.* Edgar appears to have been mnst mercilessly 
 treated in the Anglo-Saxon ballads. He was the favourite of the monks; and the monks and the minstrels 
 were at deadly feud. 
 
 t Mari&na, lib. x. cap. 4. 
 
14 PREFACE. 
 
 chronicles ; and had doubtless before him the ' Cronica del famoso Cavallero Cid 
 Ruy Diez Campeador,' which had been printed as early as the year 1552. He 
 little suspected that all the most striking passages in this chronicle were copied 
 from a poem of the twelfth century, a poem of which the language and versification 
 had long been obsolete, but which glowed with no common portion of the fire of 
 the Iliad. Yet such was the fact. More than a century and a half after the 
 death of Mariana, this venerable ballad, of which one imperfect copy on parchment, 
 four hundred years old, had been preserved at Rivar, was for the first time printed. 
 Then it was found that every interesting circumstance of the stoiy of the heirs of 
 Carrion was derived by the eloquent Jesuit from a song of which he had never 
 heard, and which was composed by a minstrel whose very name had long been 
 forgotten.* 
 
 Such, or nearly such, appears to ha\e been the process by which the lost 
 ballad-poetry of Rome was transformed into history. To reverse that process, to 
 transform some portions of early Roman history back into the poetry out of which 
 they were made, is the object of this work. 
 
 In the following poems the author speaks, not in his own person, but in the 
 persons of ancient minstrels who know only what a Roman citizen, born three or 
 four hundred years before the Christian era, may be supposed to have known, and 
 who are in nowise above the passions and prejudices of their age and nation. To 
 these imaginary poets must be ascribed some blunders which are so obvious that 
 it is unnecessar)' to point them out. The real blunder would have been to represent 
 these old poets as deeply versed in general histoiy, and studious of chronological 
 accuracy. To them must also be attributed the illiberal sneers at the Greeks, the 
 furious party-spirit, the contempt for the arts of peace, the love of war for its own 
 sake, the ungenerous exultation over the vanquished, which the reader will some- 
 times observe. To portray a Roman of the age of Camillus or Curius as superior 
 to national antipathies, as mourning over the devastation and slaughter by which 
 empire and triumphs w-ere to be won, as looking on human suffering with the 
 sympathy of Howard, or as treating conquered enemies with the delicacy of the 
 Black Prince, would be to violate all dramatic propriety. The old Romans had 
 some great virtues, fortitude, temperance, veracity, spirit to resist oppression, 
 respect for legitimate authority, fidelity in the observing of contracts, disinterested- 
 ness, ardent patriotism ; but Christian charitj' and chivalrous generosity were alike 
 unknown to them. 
 
 It would have been obviously improper to mimic the manner of any particular 
 age or country. Something has been borrowed, however, from our own old ballads, 
 and more from Sir Walter Scott, the great restorer of our ballad-poetry. To the 
 Iliad still greater obligations are due ; and those obligations have been contracted 
 with the less hesitation, because there is reason to believe that some of the 
 
 * See the account which Sanchez gives of the Bivnr manuscript in the first volume of the Coleccion de 
 Poesias Castellanas anteriores al Siglo XI'. Part of the storj' of the lords of Carrion, in the poem of the Cid, 
 has been translated by Mr. Frere in a manner above all praise. 
 
PREFA CE. 
 
 15 
 
 old Latin minstrels really had recourse to that inexhaustible store of poetical 
 images. 
 
 It would have been easy to swell this little volume to a very considerable bulk, 
 by appending notes filled with quotations ; but to a learned reader such notes are 
 not necessary ; for an unlearned reader they would have little interest ; and the 
 judgment passed both by the learned and by the unlearned on a work of the 
 imagination will always depend much more on the general character and spirit of 
 such a work than on minute details. 
 
HORATIUS. 
 
 HERE can be little doubt that among those parts of early Roman 
 
 history which had a poetical origin was the legend of Horatius 
 Codes. We have several versions of the story, and these versions 
 differ from each other in points of no small importance. Polybius, 
 there is reason to belie\ e, heard the tale recited over the remains of 
 some Consul or Praetor descended from the old Horatian patricians ; for he intro- 
 duces it as a specimen of the narratives with which the Romans were in the habit 
 of embellishing their funeral oratory. It is' remarkable that, according to him, 
 Horatius defended the bridge alone, and perished in the waters. According to 
 the chronicles which Livy and Dionysius followed, Horatius had two companions, 
 swam safe to shore, and was loaded with honours and rewards. 
 
 These discrepancies are easily explained. Our own literature, indeed, will 
 furnish an exact parallel to what may have taken place at Rome. It is highly 
 probable that the memory of the war of Porsena was preserved by compositions 
 much resembling the two ballads which stand first in the Relics of Ancient English 
 Poetry. In both those ballads the English, commanded by the Percy, fight with 
 the Scots, commanded by the Douglas. In one of the ballads the Douglas is 
 
H OR ATI us. 17 
 
 killed by a nameless English archer, and the Percy by a Scottish spearman : in 
 the other, the Percy slays the Douglas in single combat, and is himself made 
 prisoner. In the former, Si-r Hugh Montgomery is shot through the heart by a 
 Northumbrian bowman : in the latter, he is taken, and exchanged for the Percy. 
 Yet both the ballads relate to the same event, and that an event which probably 
 took place within the memory of persons who were alive when both the ballads 
 were made. One of the minstrels sa\s ; 
 
 ■ Old men tliat knowen the grounds well yenoughe 
 Call it the battell ol Otterburn : 
 At Otterburn began this spurne 
 Upon a monnyn day. 
 Ther was the dougghte Doglas slean : 
 The Perse never went away.' 
 
 The other poet sums up the event in the following lines : 
 
 ' Thys fraye bygan at Otterborne 
 Bytwene the nyghte and the day : 
 Ther the Dowglas lost hys lyfe. 
 And the Percy was lede away.' 
 
 It is by no means unlikely that there were two old Roman la\-s about tlie 
 defence of the bridge ; and that, while the story which Livy has transmitted to us 
 was preferred by the multitude, the other, which ascribed the whole glory to 
 Horatius alone, may have been the favourite with the Horatian house. 
 
 The following ballad is supposed to have been made about a hundred and 
 twenty years after the war which it celebrates, and just before the taking of Rome 
 by the Gauls. The author seems to have been an honest citizen, proud of the 
 militar)' glory of his country, sick of the disputes of factions, and much given to 
 pining after good old times which had never really existed. The allusion, how- 
 ever, to the partial manner in which the public lands were allotted, could proceed 
 only from a plebeian ; and the allusion to the fraudulent sale of spoils marks the 
 date of the poem, and shows that the poet shared in the general discontent with 
 which the proceedings of Camillus, after the taking of Veii, were regarded. 
 
 The penultimate syllable of the name Porsena has been shortened in spite of 
 the authority of Niebuhr, who pronounces, without assigning any ground for his 
 opinion, that Martial was guilty of a decided blunder in the line, 
 
 'Hanc spectare manuin Porsena non potuit.' 
 
 It is not easy to understand .how any modern scholar, whatever his attainments 
 may be, — and those of Niebuhr were undoubtedly immense, — can venture to 
 pronounce that Martial did not know the quantity of a word which he must have 
 uttered and heard uttered a hundred times before he left school. Niebuhr seems 
 also to have forgotten that Martial has fellow-culprits to keep him in countenance. 
 Horace has committed the same decided blunder ; for he gives us, as a pure iambic 
 line, 
 
 ' Minacis aiit Etrusca Porsenoe mnnus.' 
 
 K 
 
i8 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Silius Italicus has repeatedly ofifended in the same way, as when he says, 
 
 • Cernitur effugiens ardentem Porsena dextram : 
 and again, 
 
 ' Clusinum vulgus, cum, Porsena magne, jubebas.' 
 
 A modern writer may be content to err in such company. 
 
 Niebuhr's supposition, that each of the three defenders of the bridge was the 
 representative of one of the three patrician tribes, is both ingenious and probable, 
 and has been adopted in the following poem. 
 
HORATIUS. 
 
 A LAY MADE ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCLX. 
 
 i|ARS Porsena of Clusium 
 
 By the Nine Gods he swore 
 That the great house of 
 Tarquin 
 Should suffer wrong no more. 
 By the Nine Gods he swore it, 
 
 And named a trysting day, 
 And bade his messengers ride forth, 
 East and west and south and north, 
 To summon his array. 
 
 -v 
 
 11. 
 
 East and west and south and north 
 The messengers ride fast, 
 
 And tower and town and cottage 
 Have heard the trumpet's blast. 
 
 Shame on the false Etruscan ^ 
 Who lingers in his home. 
 
 When Porsena of Clusium 
 Is on the march for Rome. 
 
 III. 
 
 The horsemen and the footmen 
 
 Are pouring in amain 
 From many a stately market-place ; 
 
 From many a fruitful plain ; 
 From many a lonely hamlet. 
 
 Which, hid by beech and pine. 
 Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest 
 
 Of purple Apennine ; w- 
 
20 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 IV. 
 
 From lordly Volaterrse, 
 
 Where scowls the far-famed hold 
 Piled by the hands of giants 
 
 For godlike kings of old ; 
 
 Where ride JMassilia's triremes^ 
 Heavy with fair-haired slaves ; 
 
 From where sweet Clanis wanders 
 Through corn and \ines and flowers ; 
 
 From where Cortona lifts to heaven 
 Her diadem of towers. 
 
 'ii'SaiiMniis^^ 
 
 From seagirt Populonia, 
 Whose sentinels descry 
 
 Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops 
 Fringing the southern sky ; 
 
 From the proud mart of Pisac, 
 Oueen of the western wa\es, 
 
 VI. 
 
 Tall are the oaks whose acorns 
 
 Drop in dark Auser's rill ; 
 Fat are the stags that champ the boughs 
 
 Of the Ciminian hill ; 
 Beyond all streams Clitumnus 
 
 Is to the herdsman dear ; 
 
H OR ATI us. 
 
 Best of all pools the fowler loves 
 The great Volsinian mere. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But now no stroke of woodman 
 
 Is heard by Auser's rill ; 
 No hunter tracks the stag's green path 
 
 Up the Ciminian hill ; 
 Unwatched along Clitumnus 
 
 Grazes the milk-white steer ; 
 Unharmed the water fowl may dip 
 
 In the \'olsinian mere. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The harvests of Arretium, 
 
 This year, old men shall reap, 
 This year, young boys in Umbro 
 
 Shall plunge the strugghng sheep ; 
 And in the vats of Luna, 
 
 This year, the must shall foam 
 Round the white feet of laughing girls 
 
 Whose sires have marched to Rome. 
 
 IX. 
 
 There be thirt>' chosen prophets, 
 
 The wisest of the land, 
 Who alway by Lars Porsena 
 
 Both morn and evening stand : 
 Exening and morn the Thirty 
 
 Have turned the verses oer, 
 I'raced from the right on linen white 
 
 By mighty seers of yore. 
 
 .-\.nd with one voice the Thirty 
 
 Have their glad answer given : 
 '(io forth, go forth, Lars Porsena ; 
 
 (io forth, beloved of Heaven ; 
 (io, and return in glor)- 
 
 To Clusium's royal dome ; 
 And hang round Nurscia's altars 
 
 The golden shields of Rome.' /• 
 
 il 
 
 XI. 
 
 And now hath every city 
 
 Sent up her tale of men ; 
 The foot are fourscore thousand. 
 
 The horse are thousands ten : 
 Before the gates of Sutrium 
 
 Is met the great array. 
 A proud man was Lars Porsena 
 
 Upon the try sting day. 
 
 XII. 
 
 For all the Etruscan armies 
 
 Were ranged beneath his eye, 
 And many a banished Roman, 
 
 And many a stout ally ; 
 And with a mighty following 
 
 To join the muster came 
 The Tusculan Mamilius, 
 
 Prince of the Latian name. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 But by the yellow Tiber 
 
 Was tumult and affright : 
 From all the spacious champaign 
 
 To Rome men took their flight. 
 A mile around the cit)-. 
 
 The throng stopped up the ways ; 
 A fearful sight it was to see 
 
 Through two long nights and days. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 For aged folks on crutches. 
 
 And women great with child. 
 And mothers sobbing over babes 
 
 That clung to them and smiled. 
 And sick men borne in litters 
 
 High on the necks of slaves, 
 And troops of sun-burned husbandmen 
 
 With reaping-hooks and staves, 
 
 XV. 
 
 And droves of mules and asses 
 Laden with skins of wine, 
 
22 
 
 LAYS OF- ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 And endless flocks of goats and sheep, 
 And endless herds of kine, 
 
 And endless trains of waggons 
 That creaked beneath the weight 
 
 Of corn-sacks and of household goods, 
 Choked every roaring gate. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 To eastward and to westward 
 Have spread the Tuscan bands ; 
 
 Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote 
 In (Jrustumerium stands. 
 
 m 
 
 / 
 
 7 J 't^^^ 
 
 , ."A^^^^^'^^^jn^ 
 
 l^T 
 
 \ \ \^.^°^- 
 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Now, from the rock Tarpeian, 
 
 Could the wan burghers spy 
 The line of blazing villages 
 
 Red in the midnight sky. 
 The Fathers of the City, 
 
 They sat all night and day. 
 For every hour some horseman came 
 
 With tidings of dismay. 
 
 Verbenna down to Ostia 
 Hath wasted all the plain ; 
 
 Astur hath stormed Janiculum, 
 And the stout guards are slain 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 I wis, in all the Senate, 
 
 There was no heart so bold, 
 But sore it ached and fast it beat, 
 When that ill news was told. 
 
H OR ATI us. 
 
 Forthwith up rose the Consul, 
 
 The trampling, and the hum. 
 
 Up rose the Fathers all ; 
 
 And plainly and more plainly 
 
 In haste they girded up their gowns, 
 
 Now through the gloom appears. 
 
 And hied them to the wall. 
 
 Far to left and far to right. 
 
 
 In broken gleams of dark-blue light. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The long array of helmets bright, 
 
 They held a council standing 
 
 The long array of spears. 
 
 Before the River Gate ; 
 
 y/-,. 
 
 Short time was there, ye well ma)- guess, 
 
 For musing or debate. > 
 
 ^^^ XXII. 
 
 Out spake the Consul roundly : yy 
 
 "And plainly and more plainly. 
 
 ' The bridge must straight go down ; 
 
 Abo\'e that glimmering line, 
 
 For, since Janiculum is lost. 
 
 Now might ye see the banners 
 
 Nought else can save the town.' 
 
 Of twelve fair cities shine ; 
 
 XX. 
 
 Just then a scout came flying. 
 
 All wild with haste and fear ; 
 ' To arms ! to arms ! Sir Consul : 
 
 Lars Porscna is here.' 
 On the low hills to westward 
 
 The Consul fixed his eye, 
 And saw the swarthy storm of dust 
 
 Rise fast along the sky. 
 
 And nearer fast and nearer ^ju-tM^ 
 
 Doth the red whirlwind come ; 
 
 isp- 
 
 And louder still and still more loud. 
 From underneath that rolling cloud, 
 Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, 
 
 ] But the banner of proud Clusium 
 j Was highest of them all, 
 The terror of the Umbrian, 
 The terror of the Gaul. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 And plainly and more plainly 
 
 Now might the burghers know, 
 By port and vest, by horse and crest. 
 
 Each warlike Lucumo. 
 There Cilnius of Arretium 
 
 On his fleet roan was seen ; 
 And Astur of the four fold shield. 
 Girt with the brand none else may wield, 
 Tolumnius with the belt of gold, 
 And dark Verbenna from the hold 
 
 By reedy Thrasymene. 
 
24 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Fast by the royal standard, 
 O'erlooking all the war, 
 
 Lars Porsena of Clusium 
 Sat in his ivory car. 
 
 By the right wheel rode MamiHus 
 Prince of the Latian name ; 
 
 On the house-tops was no woman 
 But spat towards him and hissed, 
 
 No child but screamed out curses, 
 And shook its little fist. 
 
 xxvj. 
 But the Consurs brow was sad, 
 And the Consul's speech was low, 
 
 And by the left false Sextus, 
 
 That wrought the deed of shame. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 But when the face of Sextus 
 Was seen among the foes, 
 
 A yell that rent the firmament 
 From all the town arose. 
 
 d 
 
 And darkly looked he at the wall. 
 
 And darkly at the foe. 
 ' Their van will be upon us 
 
 Before the bridge goes down ; 
 And if they once may win the bridge, 
 
 What hope to save the town ? ' 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Then out spake brave Horatius, 
 The Captain of the Gate : 
 
HORATIUS. 
 
 ' To evei-y man upon this earth 
 Death cometh soon or late. 
 
 And how can man die better 
 Than facing fearful odds, 
 
 For the ashes of his fathers, 
 And the temples of his Gods. 
 
 y xxviii. 
 
 f--'And for the tender mother 
 Who dandled him to rest, 
 
 And for the wife who nurses 
 His babv at her breast, 
 
 ^JJ 
 
 Now who will stand on either hand, 
 And keep the bridge with me ? ' 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Then out spake Spurius Lartius : 
 
 A Ramnian proud was he : 
 ' Lo, I will stand at th)' right hand. 
 
 And keep the bridge with thee.' 
 And out spake strong Herminius ; 
 
 Of Titian blood was he : 
 ' I will abide on thy left side, 
 
 .•\nd keep the bridge with thee.' 
 
 And for the holy maidens 
 Who feed the eternal flame, 
 
 To save them from false Sextus 
 That wrought the deed of shame ? 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 ' Hew down the bridge, .Sir Consul, 
 With all the speed ye may ; 
 
 I, with two more to help mc, 
 Will hold the foe in play. 
 
 In yon strait path a thousand 
 May well be stopped by three. 
 
 .0, 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 oratius,' quoth the Consul, 
 
 ' As thou sayest, so let it be.' 
 And straight against that great array 
 
 Forth went the dauntless Three. 
 For Romans in Rome's quarrel 
 
 Spared neither land nor gold, 
 Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life. 
 
 In the bra\e days of old. 
 
 XXXII. 
 Then none was for a party ; 
 Then all were for the state ; 
 
26 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Then the great man helped the poor, As we wax hot in faction, 
 And the poor man loved the great : In battle we wax cold : 
 
 Then lands were fairly portioned ; i Wherefore men light not as they fought 
 
 Then spoils were fairl)- sold : \ In the brave days of old. 
 
 The Romans were like brothers 
 In the brave days of old. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Now Roman is to Roman 
 More hateful than a foe, 
 
 And the Tribunes beard the high, 
 And the Fathers grind the low. 
 
 a 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Now while the Three were tightening 
 Their harness on their backs, 
 
 The Consul was the foremost man 
 To take in hand an axe : 
 
 And Fathers mixed with Commons, 
 Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, 
 
I in RATI us. 
 
 27 
 
 IP 
 
 And smote upon the planks above, 
 And loosed the props below. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Meanwhile the Tuscan army, 
 
 Right glorious to behold, 
 Came flashing back the noonday light, 
 Rank behind rank, like surges bright 
 
 Of a broad sea of gold. 
 Four jiimdred trumpets sounded 
 
 To earth they sprang, their swords the)- 
 
 drew, 
 And lifted high their shields, and flew 
 To win the narrow way ; 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Annus from green Tifernum 
 
 Lord of the Hill of Vines ; 
 And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves 
 
 .Sicken in Ilva's mines ; 
 
 A peal of warlike glee. 
 As that great host, with measured tread, 
 And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, 
 Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, 
 
 Where stood the dauntless Three. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 The Three stood calm and silent, 
 
 And looked upon the foes. 
 And a great shout of laughter 
 
 From all the vanguard rose : 
 And forth three chiefs came spurring 
 
 liefore that deep array 
 
 And Picus, long to Clusium 
 
 Vassal in peace and war. 
 Who led to fight his Umbrian powers 
 From that grey crag where, girt with 
 
 towers. 
 The fortress of Nequinum lowers 
 
 O'er the pale waves of Nar. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 .Stout Lartius hurled down Annus 
 
 Into the stream beneath : 
 Herminius struck at Seius, 
 
 And clove him to the teeth ; 
 
28 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 At Picus brave Horatius 
 
 Darted one fiery thrust ; 
 And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms 
 
 Clashed in the bloody dust. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Then Ocnus of Falerii 
 
 Rushed on the Roman Three ; 
 And Lausulus of Urgo 
 
 The rover of the sea ; 
 
 ' Lie there,' he cried, ' fell pirate ! 
 
 No more, aghast and pale, 
 From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark 
 The track of thy destroying bark. 
 No more Campania's hinds shall fly 
 To woods and caverns when they sp)' 
 
 Thy thrice accursed sail.' 
 
 ^ 
 
 XLI. 
 
 ut now no sound of laughter 
 Was heard among the foes, 
 
 And Aruns of Volsinium, 
 
 Who slew the great wild boar, 
 The great wild boar that had his den 
 Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen, 
 And wasted fields, and slaughtered men. 
 Along Albinia's shore. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Herminius smote down Aruns : 
 
 Lartius laid Ocnus low : 
 Right to the heart of Lausulus 
 
 Horatius sent a blow. 
 
 A wild and wrathful clamour 
 From all the \anguard rose. 
 
 Six spears' lengths from the entrance 
 Halted that deep array, 
 
 And for a space no man came forth 
 To win the narrow way. 
 
 XLII. 
 But hark ! the cry is Astur : 
 
 And lo ! the ranks divide ; 
 And the great Lord of Luna 
 
 Comes with his stately stride. 
 
HORATIUS. 
 
 29 
 
 Upon his ample shoulders 
 
 Clangs loud the fourfold shield, 
 
 And in his hand he shakes the brand 
 Which none but he can wield. 
 
 XLIIl. 
 
 He smiled on those bold Romans 
 
 A smile serene and high ; 
 He eyed the flinching Tuscans, 
 
 And scorn was in his eye. 
 Quoth he, ' The she-wolfs litter 
 
 Stand savagely at bay : 
 But will )-e dare to follow, 
 
 If Astur clears the way .'' ' 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Then, whirling up his broadsword 
 
 With both hands to the height, 
 He rushed against Horatius, 
 
 And smote with all his might. 
 With shield and blade Horatius 
 
 Right deftly turned the blow. 
 The blow, though turned, came )et too 
 
 nigh ; 
 It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh : 
 The Tuscans raised a joyful cry 
 
 To see the red blood flow. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 He reeled, and on Herminius 
 
 He leaned one breathing-space ; 
 Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds. 
 
 Sprang right at Astur's face ; 
 Through teeth, and skull, and helmet 
 
 So fierce a thrust he sped. 
 The good sword stood a hand-breadth 
 out 
 
 Behind the Tuscan's head. 
 
 .\s falls on Mount Ahernus 
 
 A thunder-smitten oak. 
 Far o'er the crashing forest 
 
 The giant arms lie spread ; 
 And the pale augurs, muttering low, 
 
 Gaze on the blasted head. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 On Astur's throat Horatius 
 
 Right firmly pressed his heel. 
 And thrice and four times tugged amain, 
 
 Ere he wrenched out the steel. 
 ' And see,' he cried, ' the welcome, 
 
 Fair guests, that waits you here ! 
 What noble Lucumo comes next 
 
 To taste our Roman cheer ? ' 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 But at his haughty challenge 
 
 A sullen murmur ran. 
 Mingled of wrath, and shame, and dread 
 
 Along that glittering van. 
 There lacked not men of prowess. 
 
 Nor men of lordly race ; 
 For all Etruria's noblest 
 
 Were round the fatal place. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 /^'Bul all Etruria's noblest 
 
 Felt their hearts sink to see 
 On the earth the bloody corpses, 
 
 In the path the dauntless Three : 
 And, from the ghastly entrance 
 
 Where those bold Romans stood, 
 All shrank, like boj'S who unaware, 
 Ranging the woods to start a hare, 
 Come to the mouth of the dark lair 
 Where, growling low, a fierce old bear 
 
 Lies amidst bones and blood. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 And the great Lord of Luna 
 Fell at that deadly stroke, 
 
 P>j 
 
 Was none who would be foremost 
 To lead such dire attack : 
 
30 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 But those behind cried ' Forward ! ' 
 
 And those before cried ' Back I ' 
 And backward now and forward 
 
 Wavers the deep arraj- ; 
 And on the tossin^^ sea of steel, 
 
 To and fro the standards reel ; 
 And the victorious trumpet-peal 
 
 Dies fitfully away. 
 
 LI, 
 
 Yet one man for one moment 
 
 Stood out before the crowd ; 
 Well known was he to all the Three, 
 
 And they gave him greeting loud, 
 ' Now welcome, welcome, Sextus ! 
 
 Now welcome to thy home ! 
 Why dost thou sta)-, and turn away ? 
 
 Here lies the road to Rome.' 
 
 LII. 
 
 Thrice looked he at the city ; 
 
 Thrice looked he at the dead : 
 And thrice came on in fury, 
 
 And thrice turned back in dread : 
 And, white with fear and hatred, 
 
 Scowled at the narrow waj^. 
 Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, 
 
 The bravest Tuscans lav. 
 
 /v 
 
 LIII. 
 
 But meanwhile axe and lever 
 
 Have manfully been plied ; 
 And now the bridge hangs tottering 
 
 Above the boiling tide. 
 ' Come back, come back, Horatius I 
 
 Loud cried the Fathers all. 
 ' Back, Lartius ! back, Herminius ! 
 
 Back, ere the ruin fall ! ' 
 
 IJV. 
 
 Back darted Spurius Lartius ; 
 Herminius darted back : 
 
 \]^ 
 
 And, as they passed, beneath their feet 
 They felt the timbers crack. 
 
 But when they turned their faces, 
 And on the farther shore 
 
 Saw brave Horatius stand alone, 
 
 They would have crossed once more. 
 
 LV. . 
 
 But with a crash like thunder 
 
 Fell every loosened beam. 
 And, like a dam, the mighty wreck 
 
 Lay right athwart the stream. 
 And a long shout of triumph 
 
 Rose from the walls of Rome, 
 As to the highest turret-tops 
 
 Was splashed the yellow foam. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 And, like a horse unbroken 
 
 When first he feels the rein, 
 The furious river struggled hard. 
 
 And tossed his tawny mane, 
 And burst the curb, and bounded, 
 
 Rejoicing to be free, 
 And whirling down, in fierce career. 
 Battlement, and plank, and pier. 
 
 Rushed headlong to the sea. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Alone stood brave Horatius, 
 
 But constant still in mind ; 
 Thrice thirty thousand foes before. 
 
 And the broad flood behind. 
 ' Down with him I ' cried fiilse Sextus, 
 
 With a smile on his pale face. 
 ' Now yield thee,' cried Lars Porsena, 
 
 ' Now yield thee to our grace.' 
 
 LVI 1 1. 
 
 Round turned he, as not deigning 
 
 Those crai;£ii ranks to see ; 
 Nought spake he to Lars Porsena, 
 
 To Sextus nought spake he ; 
 
IIORATIUS. 
 
 3r 
 
 c 
 
 C 
 
 But he saw on Palatiniis 
 
 The white porch of his home ; 
 I And he spake to the noble_rii:er 7 
 That rolls by the towers of Rome. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 ' Oh, Tiber I father Tiber 1 
 
 To whom the Romans pray, 
 A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 
 
 Take thou in charge this day ! ' 
 So he spake, and speaking sheathed 
 
 The good sword by his side, 
 And with his harness on his back, 
 
 Plunged headlong in the tide. 
 
 r'l No sound of joy or sorrow r" ■ 
 J Was heard from either bank ; _ 
 
 But friends and foes in dumb surprise, 
 With parted lips and straining eyes, 
 
 Stood gazing where he sank ; 
 And when above the surges 
 
 They saw his crest appear, 
 All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry. 
 And even the ranks of Tuscany 
 
 Could scarce forbear to cheer. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 rB.ut fiercely ran the current, 
 ^ Swollen high by months of rain : 
 And fast his blood was flowing ; 
 
 And he wa s sore in pai n. 
 And heavy witTr his armour, 
 
 And spent with changing blows ; 
 And oft they thought him sinking, 
 
 But still again he rose. 
 
 LXIl. 
 
 Never, I ween, did swimmer, 
 
 In such an evil case, 
 Struggle through such a raging flood 
 
 .Safe to the l.mding place : 
 
 
 But his limbs were borne up bravely 
 
 By the bra\ e heart within, 
 And our good father Tiber 
 
 Bore bravely up his chin.* 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 ' Curse on him I ' quoth false Sextus ; 
 
 ' Will not the villain drown ? 
 But for this stay, ere close of day 
 
 We should have sacked the town I '" 
 ' Heaven help him ! ' quoth Lars Porsena 
 
 ' And bring him safe to shore ; 
 For such a gallant feat of arms 
 
 Was never seen before.' 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 lAnd now he feels the bottom ; 
 
 Now on dr)' earth he stands ; 
 Now round him throng the Fathers 
 
 To press his gory hands ; 
 And now, with shouts and clapping, 
 
 And noise of weepin g loud. 
 
 He enters through the River-Gate, 
 
 Borne by the joyous crowd. -^ 
 
 ^ , ^^ '.-' ' 
 
 ^^ LXV. 
 
 They gave him of the corn-land. 
 
 That was of public right, 7^ ^ 
 As much as two strong oxen 
 
 Could plough from morn till night : 
 And they made a molten image. 
 
 And set it up on high, ' jf? 
 
 And there it stands unto this day 
 
 To witness if I lie. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 'Jt Stands in the Comitiuni, 
 Plain for all folk to see ; 
 
 'Our ladye bare upp her chinne.' 
 
 Ballad of Childe W.iters. 
 ' Never heavier man and horse 
 Stemmed a midnight torrent's force ; • 
 
 N et. through good heart and our Lady's grace, 
 At length he gained the landing place.' 
 
 Lay of the f.nst ATmsf>;\', I. 
 
 ^ 
 
32 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Horatius in his harness, 
 Halting upon one knee : 
 
 And underneath is written, 
 In letters all of gold. 
 
 How valiantly he kept the bridge 
 In the brave days of old. 
 
 LXVll. 
 
 (V^ 
 
 And still his name sounds stirring 
 -yi^/v"'*^ Vnio the men of Rome, 
 
 &^. 
 
 w 
 
 trumpet-blast that cries to them 
 charge the Volscian home ; 
 ..nd wives still pray to Juno 
 ,7 For boys with hearts as bold 
 As his who kept the bridge so well 
 In the brave days of old. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 And in the nights of winter, 
 
 When the cold north winds blow. 
 
 And the long howling of the wolves 
 Is heard amidst the snow ; 
 
 When round the lonely cottage 
 Roars loud the tempest's din, 
 
 And the good logs of Algidus 
 Roar louder yet within ; 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 When the oldest cask is opened, 
 
 And the largest lamp is lit ; 
 When the chestnuts glow in the embers, 
 v^_And the kid turns on the spit ; 
 When young and old in circle 
 
 Around the firebrands close ; 
 When the girls are weaving baskets, 
 
 And the lads are shaping bows ; 
 
 LXX. 
 
 When the goodman mends his armour. 
 
 And trims his helmet's plume ; 
 When the goodwife's shuttle merrily 
 
 Goes flashing through the loom ; 
 With weeping and with laughter 
 
 Still is the story told, 
 How well Horatius kept the bridge 
 
 In the brave days of old. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LAKE 
 REGILLUS. 
 
 ^^'^j^HE following poem is supposed to have been produced about ninety 
 k'^^i years after the lay of Horatius. Some persons mentioned in the lay 
 l^jyg of Horatius make their appearance again, and soine appellations and 
 epithets used in the lay of Horatius have been purposely repeated : 
 for, in an age of ballad poetry, it scarcely ever fails to happen, that 
 certain phrases come to be appropriated to certain men and things, and are regu- 
 larly applied to those men and things by every minstrel. Thus we find, both in 
 the Homeric poems and in Hesiod, /3/?3 'Hpay./.yjuri, mpixy.vTog \\fLfiyur,iic^ Bidzropo; 
 'Apyiiiovrr};, i-Ta,ru>.og QriSr,, 'Eajh^? si-e^t' rivxo'jboio. Thus, too, in our own national 
 songs, Douglas is almost always the doughty Douglas ; England is merry England ; 
 all the gold is red ; and all the ladies are gay. 
 
 The principal distinction between the lay of Horatius and the lay of the Lake 
 Regillus is, that the former is meant to be purely Roman, while the latter, though 
 national in its general spirit, has a slight tincture of Greek learning and of Greek 
 
 C 
 
34 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 superstition. The story of the Tarquins, as it has come down to us, appears to 
 have been compiled from the works of several popular poets ; and one, at least, of 
 those poets appears to have visited the Greek colonies in Italy, if not Greece itself, 
 and to have had some acquaintance with the works of Homer and Herodotus. 
 Many of the most striking adventures of the house of Tarquin, before Lucretia 
 makes her appearance, have a Greek character. The Tarquins themselves are 
 represented as Corinthian nobles of the great house of the Bacchiadje, driven from 
 their country by the tyranny of that Cypselus, the tale of whose strange escape 
 Herodotus has related with incomparable simplicity and liveliness.* Livy and 
 Dionysius tell us that, when Tarquin the Proud was asked what was the best mode 
 of governing a conquered city, he replied only by beating down with his staff all 
 
 the tallest poppies in his garden. f This is exactly what Herodotus, in the passage 
 to which reference has already been made, relates of the counsel given to Periander, 
 the son of Cypselus. 1 he stratagem by which the town of Gabii is brought under 
 the power of the Tarquins is, again, obviously copied from Herodotus. | The em- 
 bassy of the young Tarquins to the oracle at Delphi is just such a story as would 
 be told by a poet whose head was full of the Greek mythology^ ; and the ambi- 
 guous answer returned by Apollo is in the exact st)"le of the prophecies which, 
 according to Herodotus, lured Crcesus to destruction. Then the character of the 
 narrative changes. From the first mention of Lucretia to the retreat of Porsena 
 
 * Herodotus, v. 92. Livy, i. 34. Dionysius, iii. 46. 
 t Livy, i. 54. Dionysius. iv. 56. 
 t Herodotus, iii. 154. Livy, i. 53. 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 35 
 
 nothing seems to be borrowed from foreign sources. The villany of Sextus, the 
 suicide of his victim, the revolution, the death of the sons of Brutus, the defence of 
 the bridge, Mucius burning his hand,* CloeHa swimming through Tiber, seem to be 
 all strictly Roman. But when we have done with the Tuscan war, and enter upon 
 the war with the Latines, we are again struck by the Greek air of the story. The 
 Battle of the Lake Regillus is in all respects a Homeric battle, except that the 
 combatants ride astride on their horses, instead of driving chariots. The mass of 
 fighting men is hardly mentioned. The leaders single each other out, and engage 
 hand to hand. The great object of the warriors on both sides is, as in the Iliad, 
 
 to obtain possession of the spoils and bodies of the slain ; and several circum- 
 stances are related which forcibly remind us of the great slaughter round the 
 corpses of Sarpedon and Patroclus. 
 
 But there is one circumstance which deserves especial notice. Both the war 
 of Troy and the war of Regillus were caused by the licentious passions of young 
 princes, who were therefore peculiarly bound not to be sparing of their own persons 
 in the day of battle. Now the conduct of Sextus at Regillus, as described by 
 Livy, so exactly resembles that of Paris, as described at the beginning of the third 
 book of the Iliad, that it is difficult to believe the resemblance accidental. Paris 
 appears before the Trojan ranks, defying the bravest Greek to encounter him : 
 
 * M. de Pouilly attempted, a hundred and twenty years a^o. to prove that the story of Mucius was 
 of Greek origin ; but he was signally confuted by the Abbe Sallier. See the Memoires de I' Academie des 
 Inscriptions, vi. 27. 66. 
 
LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Tpucriv fxiv TTpofj.dx'-^tv AXt^auopos 5-eoeioi/S, 
 
 . 'Apyeiiov irpoKoKL'^eTO iravras dpiaTOVs^ 
 dvTL^LOv /xaxecrccadai iv alvy Brj'ioTrJTi. 
 
 Livy introduces Sextus in a similar manner : ' Ferocem juvenem Tarquinium, 
 ostentantem se in prima exsulum acie.' Menelaus rushes to meet Paris. A 
 Roman noble, eager for vengeance, spurs his horse towards Sextus. Both the 
 guihy princes are instantly terror stricken : 
 
 Tov 5' lis oiiv evoTjaev A\e^avdpos S-coeiOTjs 
 
 ev TTpofxaxoccn (pavivra, KaTeTrXriyij (piXov fjrop' 
 
 fii/' 5' erdpwv els edvos ix'^^^'''° '^VP dXeeivwv. 
 
 ' Tarquinius,' says Livy, 'retro in agmen suorum infenso cessit hosti.' If this 
 be a fortuitous coincidence, it is one of the most extraordinary in literature. 
 
 In the following poem, therefore, images and incidents ha\e been borrowed, 
 not merely without scruple, but on principle, from the incomparable battle-pieces 
 of Homer. 
 
 The popular belief at "Rome, from an early period, seems to have been that 
 the event of the great day of Regillus was decided by supernatural agency. 
 Castor and Pollux, it was said, had fought, armed and mounted, at the head of the 
 legions of the commonwealth, and had afterwards carried the news of the victory 
 with incredible speed to the city. The well in the Forum at which they had 
 alighted was pointed out. Near the well rose their ancient temple. A great 
 festival was kept to their honour on the Ides of Quintilis, supposed to be the 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 37 
 
 anniversary of the battle ; and on that day sumptuous sacrifices were offered to 
 them at the pubHc charge. One spot on the margin of Lake Regillus was regarded 
 during many ages with superstitious awe. A mark, resembhng in shape a horse's 
 hoof, was discernible in the volcanic rock ; and this mark was believed to have 
 been made by one of the celestial chargers. 
 
 How the legend originated cannot now be ascertained : but we may easily 
 
 imagine se\-eral ways in which it might have originated ; nor is it at all necessary 
 
 to suppose, with Julius Frontinus, that two young men were dressed up by the 
 
 .Dictator to personate the sons of Leda. It is probable that Livy is correct when 
 
 he says that the Roman general, in the hour of peril, vowed a temple to Castor. 
 
 If so, nothing could be more natural than that the multitude should ascribe the 
 victory to the favour of the Twin (jods. When such was the prevailing sentiment, 
 any man who chose to declare that, in the midst of the confusion and slaughter, he 
 had seen two godlike forms on white horses scattering the Latines, would find 
 ready credence. We know, indeed, that, in modern times, a very similar story 
 actually found credence among a people much more civilised than the Romans of 
 the fifth century before Christ. A chaplain of Cortes, writing about thirty years 
 after the conquest of Mexico, in an age of printing presses, libraries, universities, 
 scholars, logicians, jurists, and statesmen, had the face to assert that, in one 
 engagement against the Indians, Saint James had appeared on a grey horse at the 
 head of the Castilian adventurers. Many of those adventurers were living when 
 
 X\BH A~^ 
 
38 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 this lie was printed. One of them, honest Bernal Diaz, wrote an account of the 
 expedition. He had the evidence of his own senses against the legend ; but he 
 seems to have distrusted even the evidence of his own senses. He says that he 
 was in the battle, and that he saw a grey horse with a man on his back, but that 
 the man was, to his thinking, Francesco de Morla, and not the ever-blessed 
 apostle Saint James. ' Nevertheless,' Bernal adds, ' it may be that the person on 
 the grey horse was the glorious apostle Saint James, and that I, sinner that I am, 
 was unworthy to see him.' The Romans of the age of Cincinnatus were probably 
 quite as credulous as the Spanish subjects of Charles the Fifth. It is therefore 
 conceivable that the appearance of Castor and Pollux may have become an article 
 of faith before the generation which had fought at Regillus had passed away. 
 Nor could anything be more natural than that the poets of the next age should 
 embellish this story, and make the celestial horsemen bear the tidings of victory to 
 
 Rome. 
 
 Many years after the temple of the Twin Gods had been built in the Forum, 
 an important addition was made to the ceremonial by which the state annual])- 
 testified its gratitude for their protection. Quintus Fabius and Publius Decius were 
 elected Censors at a momentous crisis. It had become absolutely necessary that 
 the classification of the citizens should be revised. On that classification depended 
 the distribution of political power. Party-spirit ran high ; and the republic seemed 
 to be in danger of falling under the dominion either of a narrow oligarchy or of an 
 io-norant and head-strong rabble. Under such circumstances, the most illustrious 
 patrician and the most illustrious plebeian of the age were entrusted with the office 
 of arbitrating between the angry factions ; and they performed their arduous task to 
 the satisfaction of all honest and reasonable men. 
 
 One of their reforms was a remodelling of the equestrian order ; and, having 
 effected this reform, they determined to give to their work a sanction derived from 
 reli'non. In the chivalrous societies of modern times, societies which have much 
 more than may at first sight appear in common with the equestrian order of Rome, 
 it has been usual to invoke the special protection of some Saint, and to observe 
 his day with peculiar solemnity. Thus the Companions of the Garter wear the 
 image of Saint George depending from their collars, and meet, on great occasions, 
 in Saint George's Chapel. Thus, when Lewis the Fourteenth instituted a new 
 order of chivalry for the rewarding of military merit, he commended it to the 
 favour of his own glorified ancestor and patron, and decreed that all the members 
 of the fraternity should meet at the royal palace on the feast of Saint Lewis, 
 should attend the king to chapel, should hear mass, and should subsequently hold 
 their o-reat annual assembly. There is a considerable resemblance between this 
 rule of the order of Saint Lewis and the rule which Fabius and Decius made 
 respecting the Roman knights. It was ordained that a grand muster and inspec- 
 tion of the equestrian body should be part of the ceremonial performed, on the 
 anniversary of the battle of Regillus, in honour of Castor and Pollux, the two 
 equestrian Gods. All the knights, clad in purple and crowned with olive, were to 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 39 
 
 meet at a temple of Mars in the suburbs. Thence they were to ride in state to the 
 Forum, where the temple of the Twins stood. This pageant was, during several 
 centuries, considered as one of the most splendid sights of Rome. In the time 
 of Dionysius the cavalcade sometimes consisted of five thousand horsemen, all 
 persons of fair repute and easy fortune.* 
 
 There can be no doubt that the Censors who instituted this august ceremony 
 acted in concert with the Pontiffs to whom, by the constitution of Rome, the 
 superintendence of the public worship belonged ; and it is probable that those 
 high religious functionaries were, as usual, fortunate enough to find in their books 
 or traditions some warrant for the innovation. 
 
 The following poem is supposed to have been made for this great occasion. 
 Songs, we know, were chanted at the religious festivals of Rome from an early 
 period ; indeed from so early a period, that some of the sacred verses were 
 popularly ascribed to Numa, and were utterly unintelligible in the age of Augustus. 
 In the Second Punic War a great feast was held in honour of Juno, and a song 
 was sung in her praise. This song was extant when Livy wrote ; and, though 
 exceedingly rugged and uncouth, seemed to him not wholly destitute of merit, f 
 A song, as we learn from Horace, j was part of the established ritual at the great 
 Secular Jubilee. It is therefore likely that the Censors and Pontiffs, when they 
 had resolved to add a grand procession of knights to the other solemnities annuallv 
 performed on the Ides of Quintilis, would call in the aid of a poet. Such a poet 
 would naturally take for his subject the battle of Regillus, the appearance of the 
 Twin Gods, and the institution of their festival. He would find abundant materials 
 in the ballads of his predecessors ; and he would make free use of the scanty stock 
 of Greek learning which he had himself acquired. He would probably introduce 
 some wise and holy Pontiff enjoining the magnificent ceremonial, which, after a 
 long interval, had at length been adopted. If the poem succeeded, many persons 
 would commit it to memory. Parts of it would be sung to the pipe at banquets. 
 It would be peculiarly interesting to the great Posthumian House, which numbered 
 among its many images that of the Dictator Aulus, the hero of Regillus. The 
 orator who, in the following generation, pronounced the funeral panegyric over 
 the remains of Lucius Posthumius Megellus, thrice Consul, would borrow largely 
 from the lay ; and thus some passages, much disfigured, would probably find their 
 way into the chronicles which were afterwards in the hands of Dionysius and 
 Livy. 
 
 Antiquaries differ widely as to the situation of the field of battle. The opinion 
 of those who suppose that the armies met near Cornufelle, between Frascati and 
 the Monte Porzio, is at least plausible, and has been followed in the poem. 
 
 As to the details of the battle, it has not been thought desirable to adhere 
 
 ' See Livy, ix. 46. Val. Max. ii. 2. Aurel. Vict. De Viris Illustribus, 32. Dionysius, vi. 13. Plin. Hi^t. 
 Nat. XV. 5. See also the singularly ingenious chapter in Niebuhr's posthumous volume, Die'Ceitsitrdes Q. 
 Juibitis uitd P. Decius. 
 
 t Livy, xxvii. 37. { Hor. Carmen Seculare. 
 
40 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 minutely to the accounts which have come down to us. Those accounts, indeed, 
 differ widely from each other, and, in all probability, differ as widely from the 
 ancient poem from which they were originally derived. 
 
 It is unnecessary to point out the obvious imitations of the Iliad, which have 
 been purposely introduced. 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 A LAY SUNG AT THE FEAST OF CASTOR AND POLLUX, ON THE IDES OF QUINTILIS, 
 
 IN THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCCLI. 
 
 |0, trumpets, sound a war-note ! 
 Ho, lictors, clear the way ! 
 The Knights will ride, in all 
 their pride, 
 Along the streets to day. 
 To-day the doors and windows 
 Are hung with garlands all, 
 From Castor in the Forum, 
 
 To Mars without the wall. 
 Each Knight is robed in purple, 
 With olive each is crowned ; 
 A gallant war-horse under each 
 
 Paws haughtily the ground. 
 While flows the Yellow River, 
 
 While stands the Sacred Hill, 
 The proud Ides of Quintilis 
 Shall have such honour still. 
 
 Gay are the Martian Kalends : 
 December's Nones are gay : 
 
 But the proud Ides, when the squadron 
 rides. 
 Shall be Rome's whitest day. 
 
 II. 
 
 Unto the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 We keep this solemn feast. 
 Swift, swift, the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 Came spurring from the east. 
 They came o'er wild Parthenius 
 
 Tossing in waves of pine, 
 O'er Cirrha's dome, o'er Adria's foam. 
 
 O'er purple Apennine, 
 I From where with flutes and dances 
 
 Their ancient mansion rings, 
 In lordly Laceda.'mon, 
 
 The City of two kings, 
 
42 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 To where, by Lake Regillus, 
 
 Under the Porcian height, 
 All in the lands of Tusculum, 
 
 Was fought the glorious fight. 
 
 III. 
 
 Now on the place of slaughter 
 
 Are cots and sheepfolds seen 
 And rows of vines, and fields of wheat, 
 
 And apple-orchards green ; 
 The swine crush the big acorns 
 
 That fall from Corne's oaks. 
 Upon the turf 1)y the Fair Fount 
 
 The reaper's pottage smokes. 
 The fisher baits his angle ; 
 
 The hunter twangs his bow ; 
 Little they think on those strong limbs 
 
 That moulder deep below. 
 Little they think how sternly 
 
 That day the trumpets pealed ; 
 How in the slippery swamp of blood 
 
 Warrior and war-horse reeled ; 
 How wolves came with fierce gallop. 
 
 And crows on eager wings, 
 To tear the flesh of captains. 
 
 And peck the eyes of kfngs ; 
 How thick the dead lay scattered 
 
 Under the Porcian height ; 
 How through the gates of Tusculum 
 
 Raved the wild stream of flight ; 
 And how the Lake Regillus 
 
 Bubbled with crimson foam, 
 What time the Thirty Cities 
 
 Came forth to war with Rome. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But, Roman, when thou standest 
 
 Upon that holy ground, 
 Look thou with heed on the dark rock 
 
 That girds the dark lake round, 
 So shalt thou see a hocf-mark 
 
 Stamped deep into the flint : 
 
 It was no hoof of mortal steed 
 That made so strange a dint : 
 
 There to the Great Twin Brethren 
 Vow thou thy vows, and pray 
 
 That they, in tempest and in fight, 
 Will keep thy head alway. 
 
 Smce last the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 Of mortal eyes were seen, 
 Have years gone by an hundred 
 
 And fourscore and thirteen. 
 That summer a Virginius 
 
 Was Consul first in place ; 
 The second was stout Aulus, 
 
 Of the Posthumian race. 
 The Herald of the Latines 
 
 From Gabii came in state : 
 The Herald of the Latines 
 
 Passed through Rome's Eastern Gate 
 The Herald of the Latines. 
 
 Did in our Forum stand ; 
 And there he did his office, 
 
 A sceptre in his hand. 
 
 VI. 
 
 ' Hear, Senators and people 
 
 Of the good town of Rome, 
 The Thirty Cities charge you 
 
 To bring the Tarquins home : 
 And if ye still be stubborn. 
 
 To work the Tarquins wrong. 
 The Thirty Cities warn you. 
 
 Look that your walls be strong.' 
 
 VII. 
 
 Then spake the Consul Aulus, 
 
 He spake a bitter jest : 
 ' Once the jay sent a message 
 
 Unto the eagle's nest : — 
 Now yield thou up thine eyrie 
 
 LInto the carrion-kite, 
 Or come forth valiantly, and face 
 
 The jays in deadly fight. — 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 43 
 
 Forth looked in wrath the eagle ; 
 
 And carrion-kite and jay, 
 Soon as they saw his beak and claw, 
 
 Fled screaming far away,' 
 
 I Then spake the elder Consul, 
 An ancient man and wise : 
 
 ( « Now hearken, Conscript Fathers, 
 To that which I advise. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Herald of the Latines 
 
 Hath liied him back in state ; 
 
 The Fathers of the City 
 Are met in high debate. 
 
 In seasons of great peril 
 
 'Tis good that one bear sway; 
 Then choose we a Dictator, 
 
 Whom all men shall obey. 
 Camerium knows liow deeply 
 
 The sword of Aulus bites. 
 
44 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 And all our city calls him 
 
 The man of seventy fights. 
 Then let him be Dictator 
 
 For six months and no more, 
 And have a Master of the Knights, 
 
 And axes twenty-four.' 
 
 IX. 
 
 So Aulus was Dictator, 
 
 The man of seventy fights ; 
 He made yEbutius Elva 
 
 His Master of the Knights. 
 On the third morn thereafter, 
 
 At dawning of the day, 
 Did Aulus and yEbutius 
 
 Set forth with their array. 
 Sempronius Atratinus 
 
 Was left in charge at home 
 With boys, and with grey-headed men, 
 
 To keep the walls of Rome. 
 Hard by the Lake Regillus 
 
 Our camp was pitched at night : 
 Eastward a mile the Latines lay, 
 
 Under the Porcian height. 
 Far over hill and valley 
 
 Their mighty host was spread ; 
 And with their thousand watch-fires 
 
 The midnight sky was red. 
 
 Up rose the golden morning 
 
 Over the Porcian height. 
 The proud Ides of Quintilis 
 
 Marked evermore with white, 
 Not without secret trouble 
 
 Our bravest saw the foes ; 
 For girt by threescore thousand spears, 
 
 The thirty standards rose. 
 From every warlike city 
 
 That boasts the Latian name, 
 Foredoomed to dogs and vultures. 
 
 That gallant army came ; 
 
 From Setia's purple vineyards. 
 
 From Norba's ancient wall. 
 From the white streets of Tusculum, 
 
 The proudest town of all ; 
 From where the Witch's Fortress 
 
 O'erhangs the dark-blue seas ; 
 From the still glassy lake that sleeps 
 
 Beneath Aricia's trees — 
 Those trees in whose dim shadow 
 
 The ghastly priest doth reign, 
 The'priest who slew the slayer, 
 
 And shall himself be slain ; 
 From the drear banks of Ufens, 
 
 Where flights of marsh-fowl play. 
 And buffaloes lie wallowing 
 
 Through the hot summer's day ; 
 From the gigantic watch-towers. 
 
 No work of earthly men. 
 Whence Cora's sentinels o'erlook 
 
 The never-ending fen ; 
 From the Laurentian jungle. 
 
 The wild hog's reedy home ; 
 From the green steeps whence Anio leaps 
 
 In floods of snow-white foam. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Aricia, Cora, Norba, 
 
 Velitrffi, with the might 
 Of Setia and of Tusculum, 
 
 Were marshalled on the right : 
 The leader was Mamilius, 
 
 Prince of the Latian name ; 
 Upon his head a helmet 
 
 Of red gold shone like flame : 
 High on a gallant charger 
 
 Of dark-grey hue he rode : 
 Over his gilded armour 
 
 A vest of purple flowed. 
 Woven in the land of sunrise 
 
 By Syria's dark-browed daughters. 
 And by the sails of Carthage brought 
 
 Far o'er the southern waters. 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 45 
 
 XII. 
 
 Lavinium and Laurentuni 
 
 Had on the left their post, 
 With all the banners of the marsh, 
 
 And banners of the coast. 
 Their leader was false Sextus, 
 
 That wrought the deed of shame : 
 With restless pace and haggard face 
 
 To his last field he came. 
 Men said he saw strange visions 
 
 Which none beside might see, 
 And that strange sounds were in his ears 
 
 Which none might hear but he. 
 A woman fair and stately, 
 
 But pale as are the dead. 
 Oft through the watches of the night 
 
 Sat spinning by his bed. 
 And as she plied the distaff. 
 
 In a sweet voice and low, 
 She sang of great old houses. 
 
 And fights fought long ago. 
 So spun she, and so sang she, 
 
 Until the east was grey, 
 Then pointed to her bleeding breast, ,, 
 
 And shrieked, and fled away. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 „iV 
 
 But in the centre thickest 
 
 Were ranged the shields of foes, 
 And from the centre loudest 
 
 The cry of battle rose. 
 There Tiber marched and Pedum 
 
 Beneath proud Tarquin's rule 
 And Ferentinum of the rock, 
 
 And Gabii of the pool. 
 There rode the ^'olscian succours : 
 
 There, in a dark stern ring. 
 The Roman exiles gathered close 
 
 Around the ancient king. 
 Though white as Mount Soracte, 
 
 When winter nights are long, 
 
 His beard flowed down o'er mail and 
 belt, 
 
 His heart and hand were strong: 
 Under his hoary eyebrows 
 
 Still flashed forth quenchless rage, 
 And, if the lance shook in his gripe, 
 
 'Twas more with hate than age. 
 Close at his side was Titus 
 
 On an Apulian steed, 
 Titus, the youngest Tarquin, 
 
 Too good for such a breed. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Now on each side the leaders 
 
 Ciive signal for the charge ; 
 And on each side the footmen 
 
 Strode on with lance and targe ; 
 And on each side the horsemen 
 
 Struck their spurs deep in gore ; 
 And front to front the armies 
 
 Met with a mighty roar : 
 And under that great battle 
 
 The earth with blood was red ; 
 And, like the Pomptine fog at morn. 
 
 The dust hung overhead ; 
 And louder still and louder 
 
 Rose from the darkened field 
 The braying of the war-horns, 
 
 The clang of sword and shield, 
 The rush of squadrons sweeping 
 
 Like whirlwinds o'er the plain. 
 The shouting of the slayers. 
 
 And screeching of the slain. 
 
 XV. 
 
 False Sextus rode out foremost : 
 
 His look was high and bold ; 
 His corslet was of bison's hide, 
 
 Plated with steel and gold. 
 As glares the famished eagle 
 
 From the Digentian rock 
 On a choice lamb that bounds alone 
 
 Before P^andusia's flock, 
 
•46 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Herminius glared on Sextus, 
 And came with eagle speed, 
 
 Herminius on black Auster, 
 
 Brave champion on brave steed ; 
 
 In his right hand the broadsword 
 That kept the bridge so well, 
 
 False Sextus saw, and trembled, 
 
 And turned, and fled away. 
 As turns, as flies, the woodman 
 
 In the Calabrian brake, [eye 
 
 When through the reeds gleams the round 
 
 Of that fell speckled snake ; 
 
 And on his helm the crown he won 
 When proud Fidena^ fell. 
 
 Woe to the maid whose lover 
 Shall cross his path to-day ! 
 
 So turned, so fled, false Sextus, 
 And hid him in the rear. 
 
 Behind the dark Lavinian ranks. 
 Bristling with crest and spear. 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 47 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But far to north v^butius, 
 
 The Master of the Knights, 
 Gave Tubero of Norba 
 
 To feed the Porcian kites. 
 Next under those red horse-hoofs 
 
 Flaccus of Setia lay ; 
 Better had he been pruning 
 
 Among his ehris that dayi 
 Alamihus saw the slaughter, 
 
 And tossed his golden crest. 
 And towards the Master of the Knights 
 
 Through the thick battle pressed, 
 ^butius smote Mamilius 
 
 So fiercely on the shield, 
 That the great lord of Tusculum 
 
 Well nigh rolled on the field. 
 Mamilius smote /Ebutius, 
 
 With a good aim and true. 
 Just where the neck and shoulder join, 
 
 And pierced him through and through ; 
 And brave ^butius Elva 
 
 Fell swooning to the ground: 
 But a thick wall of bucklers 
 
 Encompassed him around. 
 His clients from the battle 
 
 Bare him some little space, 
 And filled a helm from the dark lake. 
 
 And bathed his brow and face ; 
 And when at last he opened 
 
 His swimming eyes to light. 
 Men say, the earliest word he spake 
 
 Was, ' Friends, how goes the fight ? ' 
 
 XVII. 
 
 But meanwhile in the centre 
 
 Great deeds of arms were wrought ; 
 
 There Aulus the Dictator 
 And there Valerius fought. 
 
 Aulus with his good broadsword 
 A bloody passage cleared 
 
 To where, amidst the thickest foes, 
 
 He saw the long white beard. 
 Flat lighted that good broadsword 
 
 Upon proud Tarquin's head. 
 He dropped the lance : he dropped the 
 reins : 
 
 He fell as fall the dead. 
 Down Aulus springs to slay him, 
 
 With eyes like coals of fire : 
 But faster Titus hath sprung down, 
 
 And hath bestrode his sire. 
 Latian captains, Roman knights. 
 
 Fast down to earth they spring. 
 And hand to hand they fight on foot 
 
 Around the ancient king. 
 First Titus gave tall Caeso 
 
 A death wound in the face ; 
 Tall Caeso was the bravest man 
 
 Of the brave Fabian race : 
 Aulus slew Rex of Gabii, 
 
 The priest of Juno's shrine : 
 Valerius smote down Julius, 
 
 Of Rome s great Julian line ; 
 Julius, who left his mansion 
 
 High on the Velian hill, 
 And through all turns of weal and woe 
 
 Followed proud Tarquin still. 
 Now right across proud Tarquin 
 
 A corpse was Julius laid ; 
 And Titus groaned with rage and grief, 
 
 And at Valerius made. 
 Valerius struck at Titus, 
 
 And lopped off half his crest ; 
 But Titus stabbed Valerius 
 
 A span deep in the breast. 
 Like a mast snapped by the tempest, 
 
 \^alerius reeled and fell. 
 Ah I woe is me for the good house 
 
 That loves the people well I 
 Then shouted loud the Latine^ : 
 
 And with one rush thcv bore 
 The struggling Romans backward 
 
 Three lances' length and more : 
 
48 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 And up they took proud Tarquin, 
 And laid him on a shield, 
 
 And four strong yeomen bare him, 
 Still senseless, from the field. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But fiercer grew the fighting 
 
 Around Valerius dead ; 
 For Titus dragged him by the foct, 
 
 And Aulus by the head. 
 
 Now play the men for the good house 
 That loves the people well ! ' 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Then tenfold round the body. 
 
 The roar of battle rose. 
 Like the roar of a burning forest. 
 
 When a strong north wind blows. 
 Now backward, and now forward, 
 
 Rocked furiously the fray, 
 
 <^5^f^ 
 
 ' On, Latines, on ! ' quoth Titus, 
 
 ' See how the rebels fly ! ' 
 ' Romans, stand firm ! ' quoth Aulus, 
 
 ' And win this fight or die ! 
 They must not give Valerius 
 
 To raven and to kite ; 
 For aye Valerius loathed the wrong. 
 
 And aye upheld the right : 
 And for your wives and babies 
 
 In the front rank he fell. 
 
 Till none could see Valerius, 
 
 And none wist where he lay. 
 For shivered arms and ensigns 
 
 Were heaped there in a mound, 
 And corpses stiff, and dying men 
 
 That writhed and gnawed the ground ; 
 And wounded horses kicking, 
 
 And snorting purple foam : 
 Right well did such a couch befit 
 
 A Consular of Rome. 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 49 
 
 
 I see the plumed horsemen ; 
 
 XX. 
 
 And far before the rest 
 
 But north looked the Dictator ; 
 
 I see the dark-grey charger, 
 
 North looked he long and hard ; 
 
 I see the purple vest ; 
 
 And spake to Caius Cossus, 
 
 I see the golden helmet 
 
 The Captain of his Guard : 
 
 That shines far off like flame ; 
 
 ' Caius, of all the Romans 
 
 So ever rides jNIamilius, 
 
 Thou hast the keenest sight ; 
 
 Prince of the Latian name.' 
 
 Say, what through yonder storm of dust 
 Comes from the Latian right .'' ' 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Then answered Caius Cossus, 
 
 ' I see an evil sight ; 
 The banner of proud Tusculum 
 
 Comes from the Latian right ; 
 
 XXII. 
 
 ' Now hearken, Caius Cossus : 
 Spring on thy horse's back ; 
 
 Ride as the wolves of Apennine 
 Were all upon thy track ; 
 
 Haste to our southward battle : 
 And never draw thy rein 
 
 1/ 
 
 D 
 
5° 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Until thou find Herminius, 
 And bid him come amain.' 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 So Aulus spake, and turned him 
 
 Again to that fierce strife ; 
 And Caius Cossus mounted, 
 
 And rode for death and hfe. 
 Loud clanged beneath his horse-hoofs 
 
 The helmets of the dead, 
 And many a curdling pool of blood 
 
 Splashed him from heel to head. 
 So came he far to southward, 
 
 Where fought the Roman host, 
 Against the banners of the marsh 
 
 And banners of the coast. 
 Like corn before the sickle 
 
 The stout Lavinians fell, 
 Beneath the edge of the true sword 
 
 That kept the bridge so well. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 /' Herminius ! Aulus greets thee ; 
 
 He bids thee come with speed. 
 To help our central battle ; 
 
 For sore is there our need. 
 There wars the youngest Tarquin, 
 
 And there the Crest of Flame, 
 The Tusculan Mamilius, 
 
 Prince of the Latian name. 
 Valerius hath fallen fighting 
 
 In front of our array : 
 And Aulus of the seventy fields 
 
 Alone upholds the day.' 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Herminius beat his bosom : 
 But never a word he spake. 
 
 He clapped his hand on Auster's mane 
 He gave the reins a shake. 
 
 Away, away went Auster, 
 
 Like an arrow from the bow ; 
 
 Black Auster was the fleetest steed 
 From Aufidus to Po. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Right glad were all the Romans 
 
 Who, in that hour of dread. 
 Against great odds bare up the war 
 
 Around Valerius dead, 
 When from the south the cheering 
 
 Rose with a mighty swell ; 
 ' Herminius comes, Herminius, 
 
 Who kept the bridge so well 1 ' 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Mamilius spied Herminius, 
 
 And dashed across the way. 
 ' Herminius ! I have sought thee 
 
 Through many a bloody day. 
 One of us two, Herminius, 
 
 Shall never more go home. 
 I will lay on for Tusculum, 
 
 And lay thou on for Rome ! ' 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 All round them paused the battle. 
 
 While met in mortal fray 
 The Roman and the Tusculan, 
 
 The horses black and grey. 
 Herminius smote Mamilius 
 
 Through breast-plate and through 
 breast ; 
 And fast flowed out the purple blood 
 
 Over the purple vest. 
 Mamilius smote Herminius 
 
 Through head-piece and through head ; 
 And side by side those chiefs of pride 
 
 Together fell down dead, 
 Down fell they dead together 
 
 In a great lake of gore ; 
 .A.nd still stood all who saw them fall 
 
 While men might count a score. 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGtLLVS. 
 
 5t 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Fast, fast, with heels wild spurning, 
 
 The dark-grey charger fled : 
 He burst through ranks of fighting men ; 
 
 He sprang o'er heaps of dead. 
 His bridle far out-streaming, 
 
 His flanks all blood and foam. 
 He sought the southern mountains, 
 
 The mountains of his home. 
 The pass was steep and rugged, 
 
 The wolves they howled and whined ; 
 
 And women rent their tresses 
 For their great prince's fall ; 
 
 And old men girt on their old swords, 
 And went to man the wall. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 But, like a graven image. 
 Black Auster kept his place, 
 
 And ever wistfully he looked 
 Into his master's face. 
 
 The raven mane that daily, 
 With pats and fond caresses, 
 
 But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass. 
 
 And he left the wolves behind. 
 Through many a startled hamlet 
 
 Thundered his flying feet ; 
 He rushed through the gate of Tusculum, 
 
 He rushed up the long white street ; 
 He rushed by tower and temple, 
 
 And paused not from his race 
 Till he stood before his master's door 
 
 In the stately market-place. 
 And straightway round him gathered 
 
 A pale and trembling crowd, 
 And when they knew him, cries of rage 
 
 Brake forth, and wailing loud : 
 
 The young Herminia washed and combed 
 
 And twined in even tresses. 
 And decked with coloured ribands 
 
 From her own gay attire, 
 Hung sadly o'er her father's corpse 
 
 In carnage and in mire. 
 Forth with a shout sprang Titus, 
 
 And seized black Auster's rein. 
 Then Aulus sware a fearful oath. 
 
 And ran at him amain. 
 ' The furies of thy brother 
 
 With me and mine abide, 
 If one of your accursed house 
 
 Upon black Auster ride 1 ' 
 
52 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 As on an Alpine watch-tower 
 
 From heaven comes down the flame, 
 Full on the neck of Titus 
 
 The blade of Aulus came : 
 And out the red blood spouted, 
 
 In a wide arch and tall. 
 As spouts a fountain in the court 
 
 Of some rich Capuan's hall. 
 
 ' Now bear me well, black Auster, 
 
 Into yon thick array ; 
 And thou and I will have revenge 
 
 For thy good lord this day.' 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 So spake he ; and was buckling 
 Tighter black Auster's band, 
 
 The knees of all the Latines 
 Were loosened with dismay 
 
 When dead, on dead Herminius, 
 The bravest Tarquin lay. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 And Aulus the Dictator 
 
 Stroked Auster's ra\en mane, 
 With heed he looked unto the girths, 
 , With heed unto the rein. 
 
 When he was aware of a princehy pair 
 
 That rode at his right hand. 
 So like they were, no mortal 
 
 Might one from other know : 
 White as snow their armour was : 
 
 Their steeds were white as snow. 
 Never on earthly anvil 
 
 Did such rare armour gleam ; 
 And never did such gallant steeds 
 
 Drink of an earthly stream. 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE RE GILL 
 
 UNIVERSITY J 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 And all who saw them trembled, 
 
 And pale grew every cheek ; 
 And Aulus the Dictator 
 
 Scarce gathered voice to speak, 
 ' Say by what name men call you ? 
 
 What city is your home ? 
 And wherefore ride ye in such guise 
 
 Before the ranks of Rome ? ' 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 ' By many names men call us 
 
 In many lands we dwell : 
 Well Samothracia knows us ; 
 
 Cyrene knows us well. 
 Our house in gay Tarentum 
 
 Is hung each morn with tlowers : 
 High o'er the masts of Syracuse 
 
 Our marble portal towers ; 
 But by the proud Eurotas 
 
 Is our dear native home ; 
 And for the right we come to fight 
 
 Before the ranks of Rome.' 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 So answered those strange horsemen, 
 
 And each couched low his spear ; 
 And forthwith all the ranks of Rome 
 
 Were bold, and of good cheer : 
 And on the thirty armies 
 
 Came wonder and affright, 
 And Ardea wavered on the left. 
 
 And Cora on the right. 
 ' Rome to the charge 1 ' cried Aulus ; 
 
 ' The foe begins to yield ! 
 Charge for the hearth of Vesta ! 
 
 Charge for the Golden Shield ! 
 Let no man stop to plunder, 
 
 But slay, and slay, and slay ; 
 The Gods who live for ever 
 
 Are on our side to-day.' 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Then the fierce trumpet-flourish 
 
 From earth to heaven arose. 
 The kites know well the long stern swell 
 
 That bids the Romans close. 
 Then the good sword of Aulus 
 
 Was lifted up to slay : 
 Then, like a crag down Apennine, 
 
 Rushed Auster through the fray. 
 But under those strange horsemen 
 
 Still thicker lay the slain ; 
 And after those strange horses 
 
 Black Auster toiled in vain. 
 Behind them Rome's long battle 
 
 Came rolling on the foe. 
 Ensigns dancing wild above, 
 
 Blades all in line below. 
 So comes the Po in flood-time 
 
 Upon the Celtic plain : 
 So comes the squall, blacker than night, 
 
 Upon the Adrian main. 
 Now, by our Sire Quirinus, 
 
 It was a goodly sight 
 To see the thirty standards 
 
 Swept down the tide of flight. 
 So flies the spray of Adria 
 
 \\'hen the black squall doth blow. 
 So corn-sheaves in the flood-time 
 
 Spin down the whirling Po. 
 False Sextus to the mountains 
 
 Turned first his horse's head ; 
 And fast fled Ferentinum, 
 
 And fast Lanuvium fled. 
 The horsemen of N omentum 
 
 Spurred hard out of the fray ; 
 The footmen of Velitne 
 
 Threw shield and spear away. 
 And underfoot was trampled. 
 
 Amidst the mud and gore, 
 The banner of proud Tusculum, 
 
 That never stooped before ; 
 
54 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 And down went Flavius Faustus, 
 
 Who led his stately ranks 
 From where the apple blossoms wave 
 
 On Anio's echoing banks, 
 ' And Tullus of Arpinum, 
 
 Chief of the Volscian aids, 
 And Metius with the long fair curls, 
 
 The love of Anxur's maids, 
 And the white head of Vulso, 
 
 The great Arician seer. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Sempronius Atratinus 
 
 Sate in the Eastern Gate, 
 Beside him were three Fathers, 
 
 Each in his chair of state ; 
 Fabius, whose nine stout grandsons 
 
 That day were in the field, 
 And Manlius, eldest of the Twelve 
 
 Who kept the Golden Shield ; 
 
 And Nepos of Laurentum, . 
 
 The hunter of the deer ; 
 And in the back false Sextos 
 
 Felt the good Roman steel, 
 And wriggling in the dust he died. 
 
 Like a worm beneath the wheel 
 And fliers and pursuers 
 
 Were mingled in a mass ; 
 And far away the battle 
 
 Went roaring through the pass. 
 
 And Sergius, the High Pontiff, 
 
 For wisdom far renowned ; 
 In all Etruria's colleges 
 
 Was no such Pontiff found. 
 And all around the portal. 
 
 And high above the wall. 
 Stood a great throng of people, 
 
 But sad and silent all ; 
 Young lads, and stooping elders 
 
 That might not bear the mail, 
 
BATTLE OF THE LAKE REGILLUS. 
 
 55 
 
 Matrons with lips that quivered, 
 And maids with faces pale. 
 
 Since the first gleam of daylight, 
 Sempronius had not ceased 
 
 So like they were, man never 
 Saw twins so like before ; 
 
 Red with gore their armour was. 
 Their steeds were red with gore. 
 
 
 
 To listen for the rushing 
 
 Of horse-hoofs from the east. 
 The mist of eve was rising, 
 
 The sun was hastening down. 
 When he was aware of a princely pair 
 Fast pricking towards the town. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 ' Hail to the great Asylum ! 
 
 Hail to the hill-tops seven ! 
 Hail to the fire that burns for aye. 
 
 And the shield that fell from heaven 
 
56 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 This day, by Lake Regillus, 
 
 Under the Porcian height, 
 All in the lands of Tusculum 
 
 Was fought a glorious fight. 
 To-morrow your Dictator 
 
 Shall bring in triumph home 
 The spoils of thirty cities 
 
 To deck the shrines of Rome ! ' 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Then burst from that great concourse 
 
 A shout that shook the towers, 
 And some ran north, and some ran south. 
 
 Crying, ' The day is ours ! ' 
 But on rode the strange horsemen, 
 
 With slow and lordly pace ; 
 And none who saw their bearing 
 
 Durst ask tlieir name or race. 
 On rode they to the Forum, 
 
 While laurel-boughs and flowers. 
 From house-tops and from windows. 
 
 Fell on their crests in showers. 
 When they drew nigh to Vesta, 
 
 They vaulted down amain. 
 And washed their horses in the well 
 
 That springs by Vesta's fane. 
 And straight again they mounted, 
 
 And rode to Vesta's door ; 
 Then, like a blast, away they passed, 
 
 And no man saw them more. 
 
 XL. 
 
 And all the people trembled. 
 And pale grew every cheek ; 
 
 And Sergius the High Pontiff 
 Alone found voice to speak : 
 
 ' The gods who live for ever 
 Have fought for Rome to day ! 
 
 These be the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 To whom the Dorians pray. 
 Back comes the Chief in triumph. 
 
 Who, in the hour of fight. 
 Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 In harness on his right. 
 Safe comes the ship to haven. 
 
 Through billows and through gales, 
 If once the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 Sit shining on the sails. 
 Wherefore they washed their horses 
 
 In Vesta's holy well. 
 Wherefore they rode to Vesta's door, 
 
 I know, but may not tell. 
 Here, hard by Vesta's Temple, 
 
 Build we a stately dome 
 Unto the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 Who fought so well for Rome. 
 And when the months returning 
 
 Bring back this day of fight, 
 The proud Ides of Quintilis, 
 
 Marked evermore with white, 
 Unto the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 Let all the people throng. 
 With chaplets and with offerings. 
 
 With music and with song ; 
 And let the doors and windows 
 
 Be hung with garlands all. 
 And let the Knights be summoned 
 
 To Mars without the wall : 
 Thence let them ride in purple 
 
 With joyous trumpet-sound. 
 Each mounted on his war-horse. 
 
 And each with olive crowned ; 
 And pass in solemn order 
 
 Before the sacred dome, 
 Where dwell the Great Twin Brethren 
 
 Who fought so well for Rome ! ' 
 
. '1 
 
 y\ 
 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 COLLECTION consisting exclusively of war-songs would give an 
 imperfect, or rather an erroneous, notion of the spirit of the old 
 Latin ballads. The Patricians, during more than a century after 
 the expulsion of the Kings, held all the high military commands. A 
 Plebeian, even though, like Lucius Siccius, he were distinguished 
 by his \-alour and knowledge of war, could serve only in subordinate posts. A 
 minstrel, therefore, who wished to celebrate the early triumphs of his country, 
 could hardl)' take any but Patricians for his heroes. The warriors who are 
 mentioned in the two preceding lays, Horatius, Lartius, Herminius, Aulus 
 I'osthumius, yEbutius Elva, Sempronius Atratinus, Valerius Poplicola, were all 
 members of the dominant order ; and a poet who was singing their praises, 
 whatever his own political opinions might be, would naturally abstain from 
 insulting the class to which they belonged, and from reflecting on the system which 
 had placed such men at the head of the legions of the Commonwealth. 
 
 But there was a class of compositions in which the great families were by no 
 means so courteously treated. No parts of early Roman history are richer with 
 poetical colouring than those which relate to the long contest between the 
 privileged houses and the commonalty. The population of Rome was, from a 
 very early period, divided into hereditary castes, which, indeed, readily united to 
 
58 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 repel foreign enemies, but which regarded each other, during many years, with 
 bitter animosity. Between those castes there was a barrier hardly less strong 
 than that which, at Venice, parted the members of the Great Council from their 
 countrymen. In some respects, indeed, the line which separated an Icilius or a 
 Duilius from a Posthumius or a Fabius was even more deeply marked than that 
 which separated the rower of a gondola from a Contarini or a Morosini. At 
 Venice the distinction was merely civil. At Rome it was both civil and religious. 
 Among the grievances under which the Plebeians suffered, three were felt as 
 peculiarly severe. They were excluded from the highest magistracies, they were 
 excluded from all share in the public lands ; and they were ground down to the 
 dust by partial and barbarous legislation touching pecuniary contracts. The 
 ruling class in Rome was a monied class ; and it made and administered the laws 
 with a view solely to its own interest. Thus the relation between lender and 
 borrower was mixed up with the relation between sovereign and subject. The 
 great men held a large portion of the community in dependence by means of 
 advances at enormous usury. The law of debt, framed by creditors, and for the 
 protection of creditors, was the most horrible that has ever been known among 
 men. The liberty, and even the life, of the insolvent were at the mercy of the 
 Patrician money-lenders. Children often became slaves in consequence of the 
 misfortunes of their parents. The debtor was imprisoned, not in a pubhc gaol 
 under the care of impartial public functionaries, but in a private workhouse 
 belonging to the creditor. Frightful stories were told respecting these dungeons. 
 It was said that torture and brutal violation were common ; that tight stocks, 
 heavy chains, scanty measures of food, were used to punish wretches guilty of 
 nothing but poverty ; and that brave soldiers, whose breasts were covered with 
 honourable scars, were often marked still more deeply on the back by the scourges 
 of high-born usurers. 
 
 The Plebeians were, however, not wholly without constitutional rights. From 
 an early period they had been admitted to some share of political power. They 
 were enrolled each in his century, and were allowed a share, considerable though 
 not proportioned to their numerical strength, in the disposal of those high dignities 
 from which they were themselves excluded. Thus their position bore some re- 
 semblance to that of the Irish Catholics during the interval between the year 1792 
 and the year 1829. The Plebeians had also the privilege of annually appointing 
 officers, named Tribunes, who had no active share in the government of the Com- 
 monwealth, but who, by degrees, acquired a power formidable even to the ablest and 
 most resolute Consuls and Dictators. The person of the Tribune was inviolable ; 
 and though he could directly effect little, he could obstruct everything. 
 
 During more than a century after the institution of the Tribuneship, the 
 Commons struggled manfully for the removal of the grievances under which they 
 laboured ; and, in spite of many checks and reverses, succeeded in wringing con- 
 cession after concession from the stubborn aristocracy. At length in the year of 
 the city 378, both parties mustered their whole strength for their last and most 
 
VIRGINIA. 59 
 
 desperate conflict. The popular and active Tribune, Caius Licinius, proposed the 
 three memorable laws which are called by his name, and which were intended to 
 redress the three great evils of which the Plebeians complained. He was supported 
 with eminent ability and firmness by his colleague, Lucius Sextius. The struggle 
 appears to have been the fiercest that ever in any community terminated without 
 an appeal to arms. If such a contest had raged in any Greek city, the streets 
 would have run with blood. But, even in the paroxysms of faction, the Roman 
 retained his gravity, his respect for law, and his tenderness for the lives of his 
 fellow-citizens. Year after year Licinius and Sextius were re-elected Tribunes. 
 Year after year, if the narrative which has come down to us is to be trusted, they 
 continued to exert, to the full extent, their power of stopping the whole machine of 
 o-Qvernment. No curule magistrates could be chosen ; no military muster could 
 be held. We know too little of the state of Rome in those days to be able to con- 
 jecture how, during that long anarch)-, the peace was kept, and ordinary justice 
 administered between man and man. The animosity of both parties rose to the 
 Greatest height. The excitement, we may well suppose, would have been peculiarly 
 intense at the annual election of Tribunes. On such occasions there can be little 
 doubt that the great families did all that could be done, by threats and caresses, 
 to break the union of the Plebeians. That union, however, proved indissoluble. 
 At length the good cause triumphed. The Licinian laws were carried. Lucius 
 Sextius was the first Plebeian Consul, Caius Licinius the third. 
 
 The results of this great change were singularly happy and glorious. Two 
 centuries of prosperity, harmony, and victory' followed the reconciliation of the 
 orders. Men who remembered Rome engaged in waging petty wars almost within 
 sight of the Capitol lived to see her the mistress of Italy. While the disabilities 
 of the Plebeians continued, she was scarcely able to maintain her ground against 
 the Volscians and Hernicans. When those disabilities were removed, she rapidly 
 became more than a match for Carthage and Macedon. 
 
 During the great Licinian contest the Plebeian poets were, doubtless, not silent. 
 Even in modern times songs have been by no means without influence on public 
 affairs ; and we may therefore infer that, in a society where printing was unknown, 
 and where books were rare, a pathetic or humorous party-l^allad must have produced 
 effects such as we can but faintly conceive. It is certain that satirical poems were 
 common at Rome from a very early period. The rustics, who lived at a distance 
 from the seat of government, and took little part in the strife of factions, gave vent 
 to their petty local animosities in coarse Fescennine verse. The lampoons of the 
 city were doubtless of a higher order ; and their sting was early felt by the nobility. 
 For in the Twelve Tables, long before the time of the Licinian laws, a severe punish- 
 ment was denounced against the citizen who should compose or recite verses reflect- 
 ing on another.* Satire is, indeed, the only sort of composition in which the Latin 
 
 * Cicero justly infers from this law that thTe had been early Latin poets whose works h.id been lost before 
 his time. • Quamquam id quidem etiam xii tabulae declarant, condi jam turn sulitum e-se carmen, quod ne 
 iiceret fieri ad alterius injuriam lege sanxerunt.'—Tusc. iv. 2. 
 
6o LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 poets, whose works have come down to us, were not mere imitators of foreign 
 models ; and it is therefore the only sort of composition in which they have never 
 been rivalled. It was not, like their tragedy, their comedy, their epic and lyric 
 poetr)', a hothouse plant which, in return for assiduous and skilful culture, gave 
 only scanty and sickly fruits. It was hardy and full of sap ; and in all the various 
 juices which it yielded might be distinguished the flavour of the Ausonian soil. 
 ' Satire,' says Quinctilian, with just pride, ' is all our own.' Satire sprang, in truth, 
 naturally from the constitution of the Roman government and from the spirit of 
 the Roman people ; and, though at length subjected to metrical rules derived from 
 Greece, retained to the last an essentially Roman character. Lucilius was the 
 earliest satirist whose works were held in esteem under the Ciesars. But many 
 years before Lucilius was born, Naevius had been flung into a dungeon, and guarded 
 there with circumstances of unusual rigour, on account of the bitter lines in which 
 he had attacked the great Cascilian family.* The genius and spirit of the Roman 
 satirist survived the liberty of their country, and were not extinguished by the cruel 
 despotism of the Julian and Flavian Emperors. The great poet who told the 
 story of Domitian's turbot was the legitimate successor of those forgotten minstrels 
 whose songs animated the factions of the infant Republic. 
 
 These minstrels, as Niebuhr has remarked, appear to have generally taken the 
 popular side. We can hardly be mistaken in supposing that, at the great crisis of 
 the civil conflict, they employed themselves in \ersifying all the most powerful and 
 virulent speeches of the Tribunes, and in heaping abuse on the leaders of the 
 aristocracy. Every personal defect, every domestic scandal, every tradition dis- 
 honourable to a noble house, would be sought out, brought into notice, and exag- 
 gerated. The illustrious head of the aristocratical party, Marcus Furius Camillus, 
 might perhaps be, in some measure, protected by his ^■enerable age and by the 
 memory of his great services to the State. But Appius Claudius Crassus enjoyed 
 no such immunity. He was descended from a long line of ancestors distinguished 
 by their haughty demeanour, and by the inflexibility with which they had withstood 
 all the demands of the Plebeian order. While the political conduct and the deport- 
 ment of the Claudian nobles drew upon them the fiercest public hatred, they were 
 accused of wanting, if any credit is due to the early history of Rome, a class of 
 qualities which, in the military commonwealth, is sufficient to cover a multitude of 
 offences. The chiefs of the family appear to have been eloquent, versed in civil 
 lousiness, and learned after the fashion of their age ; but in war they were not 
 distinguished by skill or valour. Some of them, as if conscious where their weak- 
 ness lay, had, when filling the highest magistracies, taken internal administration 
 as their department of public business, and left the military command to their 
 colleagues.! One of them had been intrusted with an army, and had failed 
 ignominiously.| None of them had been honoured with a triumph. None of 
 
 * Plautus, Miles Gloriosus. Aulus Gellius, iii. 3. t In the years of the city 260, 304, and 330. 
 
 + In the year of the city 2S2. 
 
VIRGINIA. 6i 
 
 them had achieved any martial exploit, such as those by which Lucius Quinctius 
 Cincinnatus, Titus Quinctius Capitolinus, Aulus Cornelius Cossus, and, above all, 
 the great Camillus, had extorted the reluctant esteem of the multitude. During 
 the Licinian contact, Appius Claudius Crassus signalised himself by the ability and 
 severity with which he harangued against the two great agitators. He would 
 naturally, therefore, be the fa\-ourite mark of the Plebeian satirists ; nor would they 
 ha\e been at a loss to find a point on which he was open to attack. 
 
 His grandfather, called, like himself, Appius Claudius, had left a name as much 
 detested as that of Sextus Tarquinius. This elder Appius had been Consul more 
 than seventy years before the introduction of the Licinian laws. By availing him- 
 self of a singular crisis in public feeling, he had obtained the consent of the Commons 
 to the abolition of the Tribuneship, and had been the chief of that Council of Ten 
 to which the whole direction of the State had been committed. In a few months 
 his administration had become universally odious. It had been swept away by an 
 irresistible outbreak of popular fury ; and its memory was still held in abhorrence 
 by the whole city. The immediate cause of the downfall of this execrable govern- 
 ment was said to have been an attempt made by Appius Claudius upon the chastit)' 
 of a beautiful young girl of humble birth. The story ran that the Decemvir, unable 
 to succeed by bribes and solicitations, resorted to an outrageous act of tyranny. 
 A vile dependent of the Claudian house laid claim to the damsel as his slave. The 
 cause was brought before the tribunal of Appius. The wicked magistrate, in defi- 
 ance of the clearest proofs, gave judgment for the claimant. But the girl's father, 
 a brave soldier, saved her from servitude and dishonour by stabbing her to the 
 heart in the sight of the whole Forum. That blow was the signal for a general 
 explosion. Camp and city rose at once ; the Ten were pulled down ; the Tribune- 
 ship was re-established ; and Appius escaped the hands of the executioner only by 
 a voluntary death. 
 
 It can hardly be doubted that a story so admirably adapted to tlie purposes 
 both of the poet and of the demagogue would be eagerly seized ujwn by minstrels 
 burning with hatred against the Patrician order, against the Claudian house, and 
 especially against the grandson and namesake of the infamous Decemvir. 
 
 In order that the reader may judge fairly of these fragments of the lay of 
 Virginia, he must imagine himself a Plebeian who has just voted for the re-election 
 of Sextius and Licinius. All the power of the Patricians has been exerted to throw 
 out the two great champions of the Commons. Every Posthumius, .Lmilius, and 
 Cornelius has used his influence to the utmost. Debtors have been let out of the 
 workhouses on condition of voting against the men of the people : clients have been 
 posted to hiss and interrupt the favourite candidates : Appius Claudius Crassus has 
 spoken with more than his usual eloquence and asperity : all has been in vain ; 
 Licinius and Sextius have a fifth time carried all the tribes : work is suspended : 
 the booths are closed : the Plebeians bear on their shoulders the two champions of 
 liberty through the Forum. Just at this moment it is announced that a popular 
 poet, a zealous adherent of the Tribunes, has made a new song which will cut the 
 
62 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Claudian nobles to the heart. The crowd gathers round him, and calls on him to 
 recite it. He takes his stand on the spot where, according to tradition, Virginia, 
 more than seventy years ago, was seized by the pandar of Appius, and he begins 
 his story. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 FRAGMENTS OF A LAY SUNG IN THE FORUM ON THE DAY WHEREON LUCIUS 
 SEXTIUS SEXTINUS LATERANUS AND CAIUS LICINIUS CALVUS STOLO 
 WERE ELECTED TRIBUNES OF THE COMMONS THE FIFTH TIME, IN THE 
 YEAR OF THE CITY CCCLXXXII. 
 
 |e good men of the Commons, with loving hearts and true, 
 
 Who stand by the bold Tribunes that still have stood by you, 
 Come, make a circle round me, and mark my tale with care, 
 A tale of what Rome once hath borne, of what Rome yet may bear. 
 This is no Grecian fable, of fountains running wine, 
 
 Of maids with snaky tresses, or sailors turned to swine. 
 
 Here, in this very Forum, under the noonday sun. 
 
 In sight of all the people, the bloody deed was done, 
 
64 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Old men still creep among us who saw that fearful day, 
 
 Just seventy years and seven ago, when the wicked Ten bare sway. 
 
 Of all the wicked Ten still the names are held accursed, 
 And of all the wicked Ten Appius Claudius was the worst. 
 He stalked along the Forum like King Tarquin in his pride : 
 Twelve axes waited on him, six marching on a side ; 
 The townsmen shrank to right and left, and eyed askance with fear 
 His lowering brow, his curling mouth, which always seemed to sneer ; 
 That brow of hate, that mouth of scorn, marks all the kindred still ; 
 For never was there Claudius yet but wished the Commons ill : 
 Nor lacks he fit attendance ; for close behind his heels. 
 With outstretched chin and crouching pace, the client Marcus steals. 
 His loins girt up to run with speed, be the errand what it may. 
 And the smile flickering on his cheek, for aught his lord may say. 
 Such varlets pimp and jest for hire among the lying Greeks : 
 Such varlets still are paid to hoot when brave Licinius speaks. 
 Where'er ye shed the honey, the buzzing flies will crowd ; 
 Where'er ye fling the carrion, the raven's croak is loud ; 
 Where'er down Tiber garbage floats, the greedy pike )'e see ; 
 And wheresoe'er such lord is found, such client still will be. 
 
 Just then, as through one cloudless chink in a black stormy sky, 
 Shines out the dewy morning-star, a fair young girl came by. 
 With her small tablets in her hand, and her satchel on her arm. 
 Home she went bounding from the school, nor dreamed of shame or harm ; 
 And past those dreaded axes she innocently ran, 
 
 With bright, frank brow that had not learned to blush at gaze of man ; 
 And up the Sacred Street she turned, and, as she danced along. 
 She warbled gaily to herself lines of the good old song. 
 How for a sport the princes came spurring from the camp. 
 And found Lucrece, combing the fleece, under the midnight lamp. 
 The maiden sang as sings the lark, when up he darts his flight. 
 From his nest in the green April corn, to meet the morning light ; 
 And Appius heard her sweet young voice, and saw her sweet young face, 
 And loved her with the accursed love of his accursed race. 
 And all along the Forum and up the Sacred Street 
 His vulture eye pursued the trip of those small glancing feet. 
 
 Over the Alban mountains the light of morning broke ; 
 From all the roofs of the Seven Hills curled the thin wreaths of smoke : 
 The city-gates were opened ; the Forum all alive, 
 With buyers and with sellers was humming like a hive : 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 65 
 
 Blithely on brass and timber the craftsman's stroke was ringing, 
 
 And blithely o'er her panniers the market-girl was singing, 
 
 And blithely young Virginia came smiling from her home : 
 
 Ah ! woe for young Virginia, the sweetest maid in Rome ! — SUy«y^^' 
 
 With her small tablets in her hand, and her satchel on her arm, 
 
 Forth she went bounding to the school, nor dreamed of shame or harm. 
 
 She crossed the Forum shining with stalls in alleys gay, 
 
 And just had reached the very spot whereon I stand this day, 
 
 When up the varlet Marcus came ; not such as when erewhile 
 
 He crouched behind his patron's heels with the true client smile : 
 
 He came with lowering forehead, swollen features, and clenched fist, 
 
 And strode across Virginia's path, and caught her by the wrist. 
 
 Hard strove the frighted maiden, and screamed with look aghast ; 
 
 And at her scream from right and left the folk came running fast ; 
 
 The money-changer Crispus, with his thin silver hairs, 
 
 And Hanno from the stately booth glittering with Punic wares, 
 
 And the strong smith Murtena, grasping a half-forged brand. 
 
 And Volero the flesher, his cleaver in his hand. 
 
 All came in wrath and wonder ; for all knew that fair child ; 
 
 And, as she passed them twice a day, all kissed their hands and smiled ; 
 
 And the strong smith Murtuna gave ^larcus such a blow, 
 
 The caitiff reeled three paces back, and let the maiden go. 
 
 E 
 
66 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Yet glared he fiercely round him, and growled in harsh, fell tone, 
 
 ' She's mine, and I will have her : I seek but for mine own : 
 
 She is my slave, born in my house, and stolen away and sold, 
 
 The year of the sore sickness, ere she was twelve hours old. 
 
 'Twas in the sad September, the month of wail and fright, 
 
 Two augurs were borne forth that morn ; the Consul died ere night. 
 
 I wait on Appius Claudius, I waited on his sire : 
 
 Let him who works the client wrong beware the patron's ire ! ' 
 
 So spake the varlet Marcus ; and dread and silence came 
 On all the people at the sound of the great Claudian name. 
 
 For then there was no Tribune to speak the word of might, 
 
 Which makes the rich man tremble, and guards the poor man's right. 
 
 There was no brave Licinius, no honest Sextus then ; 
 
 But all the city, in great fear, obeyed the wicked Ten. 
 
 Yet ere the varlet Marcus again might seize the maid. 
 
 Who clung tight to Murasna's skirt, and sobbed, and shrieked for aid, 
 
 Forth through the throng of gazers the young Icilius pressed. 
 
 And stamped his foot, and rent his gown, and smote upon his breast, 
 
 And sprang upon that column, by many a minstrel sung. 
 
 Whereon three mouldering helmets, three rusting swords, are hung. 
 
ViRGINtA. 67 
 
 And beckoned to the people, and in bold voice and clear 
 
 Poured thick and fast the burning words which tyrants quake to hear. 
 
 ' Now, by your children's cradles, now by your fathers' graves, 
 Be men to-day, Quirites, or be for ever slaves ! 
 For this did Servius give us laws ? For this did Lucrece bleed ? 
 For this was the great vengeance wrought on Tarquin's evil seed ? 
 For this did those false sons make red the axes of their sire ? 
 For this did Scasvola's right hand hiss in the Tuscan fire ? 
 Shall the vile fox-earth awe the race that stormed the lion's den ? 
 Shall we, who could not brook one lord, crouch to the wicked Ten ? 
 Oh for that ancient spirit which curbed the Senate's will ! 
 Oh for the tents which in old time whitened the Sacred Hill ! 
 In those brave days our fathers stood firmly side by side ; 
 They faced the Marcian fury ; they tamed the Fabian pride : 
 They drove the fiercest Quinctius an outcast forth from Rome ; 
 They sent the haughtiest Claudius with shivered fasces home. 
 But what their care bequeathed us our madness flung a^-ay : 
 All the ripe fruit of threescore years was blighted in a day. 
 Exult, ye proud Patricians ! The hard-fought fight is o'er. 
 We strove for honours- — 'twas in vain : for freedom — 'tis no more. 
 No crier to the polling summons the eager throng ; 
 
 No Tribune breathes the word of might that guards the weak from wrong. 
 Our \ery hearts, that w^ere so high, sink down beneath your will. 
 Riches, and lands, and power, and state — ye have them : — keep them still. 
 Still keep the holy fillets ; still keep the purple gown, 
 The axes, and the curule chair, the car, and laurel crown : 
 Still press us for your cohorts, and, when the fight is done, 
 Still fill your garners from the soil which our good swords have won. 
 Still, like a spreading ulcer, which leech-craft may not cure, 
 Let your foul usance eat away the substance of the poor. 
 Still let your haggard debtors bear all their fathers loore ; 
 Still let your dens of torment be noisome as of yore ; 
 No fire when Tiber freezes ; no air in dog-star heat ; 
 And store of rods for free-born backs, and holes for free-born feet. 
 Heap heavier still the fetters ; bar closer still the grate ; 
 Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate. 
 But, by the Shades beneath us, and b)- the Gods above. 
 Add not unto your cruel hate your yet more cruel love ! 
 Have ye not graceful ladies, whose spotless lineage springs 
 From Consuls, and High Pontiffs, and ancient Alban kings ? 
 Ladies, who deign not on our paths to set their tender feet. 
 Who from their cars look down with scorn upon the wondering street, 
 
68 
 
 7..iy5 OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Who m Corinthian mirrors their own proud smiles behold, 
 
 And breathe of Capuan odours, and shine with Spanish gold ? 
 
 Then leave the poor Plebeian his single tie to life — ■ 
 
 The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife, 
 
 The gentle speech, the balm for all that his \'exed soul endures, 
 
 The kiss, in which he half forgets even such a )oke as yours. 
 
 Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast with pride ; 
 
 Still let the bridegroom's arms infold an unpolluted bride. 
 
 Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame, 
 
 That turns the coward's heart to steel, the sluggard's blood lo flame. 
 
 Lest, when our latest hope is fled, ye taste of our despair. 
 
 And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare. 
 
 ^' 
 
 Straightway Virginius led the maid a little space aside. 
 To where the reeking shambles stood, piled up with horn and hide, 
 Close tc )'on low dark archwa)% where, in a crimson flood. 
 Leaps down to the great sewer the gurgling stream of blood. 
 Hard by, a flesher on a block had laid his whittle down ; 
 Virginius caught the whittle up, and hid it in his gown. 
 And then his eyes grew very dim, and his throat began to swell. 
 And in a hoarse, changed voice he spake, ' Farev.-ell, sweet child ! Farewell 
 Oh ! how I loved my darling ! Th'iugh stern I sometimes be, 
 To thee, thou know'st I was not so. Who could be so to thee ? 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 69 
 
 And how my darling loved me ! How glad she was to hear 
 
 My footstep on the threshold when I came back last year 1 
 
 And how she danced with pleasure to see my civic crown, 
 
 And took m)- sword, and hung it up, and brought me forth my gown ! 
 
 Now, all those things are over — yes, all thy pretty wa)s, 
 
 Thy needlework, thy prattle, thy snatches of old lays ; 
 
 And none will grieve when I go forth, or smile when I return. 
 
 Or watch beside the old man's bed, or weep upon his urn. 
 
 The house that was the happiest within the Roman walls. 
 
 The house that envied not the wealth of Capua's marble halls, 
 
 Now, for the brightness of thy smile, must have eternal gloom, 
 
 And for the music of thy voice, the silence of the tomb. 
 
 The time is come. See how he points his eager hand this way ! 
 
 See how his eyes gloat on thy grief, like a kite's upon the prey ! 
 
 With all his wit, he little deems, that, spurned, betrayed, bereft, 
 
 Thy father hath in his despair one fearful refuge left. 
 
 He little deems that in this hand I clutch what still can save 
 
 Thy gentle youth from taunts and blows, the portion of the slave ; 
 
 Yea, and from nameless evil, that passeth taunt and blow — 
 
 Foul outrage which thou knowest not, which thou shalt never know, 
 
 OF THK 
 
70 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 Then clasp me round the neck once more, and give me one more kiss ; 
 And now, mine own dear Httle girl, there is no way but this.' 
 With that he lifted high the steel, and smote her in the side. 
 And in her blood she sank to earth, and with one sob she died. 
 
 Then, for a little moment, all people held their breath ; 
 And through the crowded Forum was stillness as of death ; 
 And in another moment brake forth from one and all 
 A cry as if the Volscians were coming o'er the wall. 
 
 Some with averted faces shrieking fled home amain ; 
 
 Some ran to call a leech ; and some ran to lift the slain : 
 
 Some felt her lips and little wrist, if life might there be found ; 
 
 And some tore up their garments fast, and strove to stanch the wound. 
 
 In vain they ran, and felt, and stanched ; for never truer blow 
 
 That good right arm had dealt in fight against a Volscian foe. 
 
 When Appius Claudius saw that deed, he shuddered and sank down. 
 And hid his face some little space with the corner of his gown, 
 Till, with white lips and bloodshot eyes, Virginius tottered nigh, 
 And stood before the judgment-seat, and held the knife on high. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 71 
 
 ' Oh ! dwellers in the nether gloom, avengers of the slain, 
 By this dear blood I cry to you, do right between us twain ; 
 And even as Appius Claudius hath dealt by me and mme, . 
 Deal you by Appms Claudius and all the Claudian line ! - 
 So spake the slayer of his child, and turned, and went his way 
 But first he cast one haggard glance to where the body lay. 
 
 
 And writhed, and groaned a fearful groan, and then, with steadfast feet. 
 Strode right across the market-place unto the Sacred Street. 
 
 Then up sprang Appius Claudius : ' Stop him ; alive or dead ! 
 Ten thousand pounds of copper to the man who brings his head.' 
 He looked upon his clients ; but none would work his will. 
 He looked upon his lictors ; but they trembled, and stood still. 
 And, as \'irginius through the press his way in silence cleft, 
 Ever the mighty multitude fell back to right and left. 
 
72 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 And he hath passed in safety unto his woeful home, 
 
 And there ta'en horse to tell the camp what deeds are done in Rome. 
 
 By this the flood of people was swollen from every side, 
 And streets and porches round were filled with that o'erflowing tide ; 
 And close around the body gathered a little train 
 Of them that were the nearest and dearest to the slain. 
 They brought a bier, and hung it with many a cypress crown, 
 And gently they uplifted her, and gently laid her down. 
 The face of Appius Claudius wore the Claudian scowl and sneer. 
 And in the Claudian note he cried, ' What doth this rabble here ? 
 Have they no crafts to mind at home, that hitherward they stray ? 
 Ho ! lictors, clear the market-place, and fetch the corpse away ! ' 
 The voice of grief and fury till then had not been loud ; 
 But a deep sullen murmur wandered among the crowd, 
 Like the moaning noise that goes before the whirlwind on the deep, 
 Or the growl of a fierce watch-dog but half aroused from sleep. 
 But when the lictors at that word, tall yeomen all and strong, 
 Each with his axe and sheaf of twigs, went down into the throng, 
 Those old men say, who saw that day of sorrow and of sin, 
 That in the Roman Forum was never such a din. 
 The wailing, hooting, cursing, the howls of grief and hate, 
 Were heard beyond the Pincian Hill, beyond the Latin Gate. 
 But close around the body, where stood the little train 
 Of them that were the nearest and dearest to the slain, 
 No cries were there, but teeth set fast, low whispers and black frowns, 
 And breaking up of benches, and girding up of gowns. 
 'Twas well the lictors might not pierce to where the maiden lay. 
 Else surely had they been all twelve torn limb from limb that day. 
 Right glad they were to struggle back, blood streaming from their heads, 
 With axes all in splinters, and raiment all in shreds. 
 Then Appius Claudius gnawed his lip, and the blood left his cheek ; 
 And thrice he beckoned with his hand, and thrice he stro\-e to speak ; 
 And thrice the tossing Forum set up a frightful yell ; 
 ' See, see, thou dog 1 what thou hast done ; and hide thy shame in hell ! 
 Thou that wouldst make our maidens slaves must first make slaves of men. 
 Tribunes ! Hurrah for Tribunes ! Down with the wicked Ten I ' 
 And straightway, thick as hailstones, came whizzing through the air 
 Pebbles, and bricks, and potsherds, all round the curule chair : 
 And upon Appius Claudius ojeat fear and trembling came ; 
 For never was a Claudius yet brave against aught but shame. 
 Though the great houses love us not, we own, to do them right, 
 That the great houses, all save one, have borne them well in fight. 
 
VIRGINIA. 
 
 Still Caius of Corioli, his triumphs and his wrongs, 
 
 His vengeance and his mercy, live in our camp-fire songs. 
 
 Beneath the yoke of Furius oft have Gaul and Tuscan bowed ; 
 
 And Rome may bear the pride of him of whom herself is proud. 
 
 But evermore a Claudius shrinks from a stricken field. 
 
 And changes colour like a maid at sight of sword and shield. 
 
 The Claudian triumphs all were won within the city towers ; 
 
 The Claudian yoke was never pressed on any necks but ours. 
 
 A Cossus, like a wild cat, springs ever at the face ; 
 
 A Fabius rushes like a boar against the shouting chase ; 
 
 I)Ut the vile Claudian litter, raging with currish spite, 
 
 Still yelps and snaps at those who run, still runs from those who smite. 
 
 So now 'twas seen of Appius. When stones began to fly, 
 
 He shook, and crouched, and wrung his hands, and smote upon his thigh. 
 
 ' Kind clients, honest lictors, stand by me in this fray ! 
 
 Must I be torn in pieces ? Home, home, the nearest way !' 
 
LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 While yet he spake, and looked around with a bewildered stare, 
 
 Four sturdy lictors put their necks beneath the curule chair ; 
 
 And fourscore clients on the left, and fourscore on the right, 
 
 Arrayed themselves with swords and staves, and loins girt up for fight. 
 
 But, though without or staff or sword, so furious was the throng, 
 
 That scarce the train with might and main could bring their lord along. 
 
 Twelve times the crowd made at him ; five times they seized his gown ; 
 
 Small chance was his to rise again, if once they got him down : 
 
 And sharper came the pelting ; and evermore the yell — 
 
 ' Tribunes ! we will have Tribunes ! ' • — rose with a louder swell : 
 
 And the chair tossed as tosses a bark with tattered sail 
 
 When raves the Adriatic beneath an eastern gale. 
 
 When the Calabrian sea-marks are lost in clouds of spume, 
 
 And the great Thunder-Cape has donned his veil of inky gloom. 
 
 One stone hit Appius in the mouth, and one beneath the ear ; 
 
 And ere he reached Mount Palatine, he swooned with pain and fear. 
 
 His cursed head, that he was wont to hold so high with pride, 
 
 Now, like a drunken man's, hung down, and swayed from side to side: 
 
 And when his stout retainers had brought him to his door, 
 
 His face and neck were all one cake of filth and clotted gore. 
 
 As Appius Claudius was that day, so may his grandson be I 
 
 God send Rome one such other sight, and send me there to see ! 
 
THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 
 
 ^^^jT^^T can hardly be necessary to remind any reader that, according to the 
 popular tradition, Romulus, after he had slain his grand-uncle 
 Amulius, and restored his grandfather Numitor, determined to quit 
 Alba, the hereditaiy domain of the Sylvian princes, and to found a 
 new city. The Gods, it was added, vouchsafed the clearest signs of 
 
 the favour with which they regarded the enterprise, and of the high destinies re- 
 
 ser\ed for the young colony. 
 
LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 This event was likely to be a fa\ourite theme of the old Latin minstrels. They 
 would naturally attribute the project of Romulus to some divine intimation of the 
 power and prosperity which it was decreed that his city should attain. They would 
 probably introduce seers foretelling the victories of unborn Consuls and Dictators, 
 and the last great victory would generally occupy the most conspicuous place in the 
 prediction. There is nothing strange in the supposition that the poet who was 
 employed to celebrate the first great triumph of the Romans over the Greeks might 
 throw his song of exultation into this form. 
 
 The occasion was one likely to excite the strongest feelings of national pride. 
 A great outrage had been followed by a great retribution. Seven years before this 
 time, Lucius Posthumius Megellus, who sprang from one of the noblest houses of 
 Rome, and had been thrice Consul, was sent ambassador to Tarentum, with charge 
 to demand reparation for grievous injuries. The Tarentines gave him audience 
 in their theatre, where he addressed them in such Greek as he could command, 
 which, we may well believe, was not exactly such as Cineas would have spoken. 
 
THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 
 
 77 
 
 An exquisite sense of the ridiculous belonged to the Greek character : and closely 
 coniTected with this faculty was a strong propensity to flippancy and impertinence. 
 ^\'hen Posthumius placed an accent wrong, his hearers burst into a laugh. When 
 he remonstrated, they hooted him, and called him barbarian ; and at length hissed 
 him off the stage as if he had been a bad actor. As the grave Roman retired, 
 a buftbon, who, from his constant drunkenness, was nicknamed the Pint pot, came 
 up with gestures of the grossest indecency, and bespattered the senatorial gown 
 with filth. Posthumius turned round to the multitude, and held up the gown, 
 as if appealing to the universal law of nations. The sight only increased the 
 
 insolence of the Tarentincs. They clapped their hands, and set up a shout of 
 laughter which shook the theatre. ' Men of Tarentum,' said Posthumius, ' it will 
 take not a little blood to wash this gown.' * 
 
 Rome, in consec|uence of this insult, declared war against the Tarentines. The 
 Tarentines sought for allies beyond the Ionian Sea. Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, 
 came to their help with a large army ; and, for the first time, the two great nations 
 of anticiuity were fairly matched against each other. 
 
 The fame of Greece in arms, as well as in arts, was then at the height. Half 
 a century earlier, the career of Alexander had e.xcited the admiration and terror 
 
 * Dion. Hal. De Legationibu^. 
 
7^ 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 of all nations from the Ganges to the Pillars of Hercules. Royal houses, founded 
 by Macedonian captains, still reigned at Antioch and Alexandria. That barbadian 
 warriors, led by barbarian chiefs, should win a pitched battle against Greek valour 
 guided by Greek science, seemed as incredible as it would now seem that the 
 Burmese or the Siamese should, in the open plain, put to flight an equal- number 
 of the best English troops. The Tarentines were convinced that their countrymen 
 were irresistible in war ; and this conviction had emboldened them to treat Avith 
 the grossest indignity one whom they regarded as the representative of an inferior 
 race. Of the Greek generals then living, Pyrrhus was indisputably the first. 
 Among the troops who were trained in the Greek discipline, his Epirotes ranked 
 high. His expedition to Italy was a turning-point in the history of the world. 
 He found there a people who, far inferior to the Athenians and Corinthians in the 
 fine arts, in the speculative sciences, and in all the refinements of life, were the 
 best soldiers on the face of the earth. Their arms, their gradations of rank, their 
 order of battle, their method of intrenchment, were all of Latian origin, and 
 
 had all been gradually brought near to perfection, not by the study of foreign 
 models, but by the genius and experience of many generations of great native 
 commanders. The first words which broke from the king, when his practised eye 
 had surveyed the Roman encampment, A\-cre full of meaning : — ' These barbarians,' 
 he said, 'have nothing barbarous in their military arrangements.' He was at first 
 victorious ; for his own talents were superior to those of the captains who were 
 opposed to him ; and the Romans were not prepared for the onset of the elephants 
 of the East, which were then for the first time seen in Italy — moving mountains, 
 with long snakes for hands.''' But the victories of the Epirotes were fiercely 
 disputedr dearly purchased, and altogether unprofitable. At length, Manius 
 Curius Uentatus, who had in his first Consulship won two triumphs, was again 
 placed at the head of the Roman Commonwealth, and sent to encounter the 
 invaders. A great battle was fought near Bene^'entum. Pyrrhus was completely 
 defeated. He repassed the sea ; and the world learned, with amazement, that a 
 
 ' Angiiiinanus is the old Latin epithet for an elephant. Lucretius, ii. 538, v. 1302 
 
THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 79 
 
 people had been discovered, who, hi fair fighting, were superior to the best troops 
 that had been drilled on the system of Parmenio and Antigonus. 
 
 The conquerors had a good right to exult in their success ; for their glory was 
 all their own. They had not learned from their enemy how to conquer him. 
 It was with their own national arms, and in their own national battle-array, that 
 they had overcome weapons and tactics long believed to be invincible. The 
 pilum and the broadsword had vanquished the Macedonian spear. The legion 
 had broken the Macedonian phalanx. Even the elephants, when the surprise 
 produced by their first appearance was over, could cause no disorder in the steady 
 yet flexible battalions of Rome. 
 
 It is said by Florus, and may easily be believed, that the triumph far surpassed 
 in magnificence any that Rome had previously seen. The only spoils which 
 Papirius Cursor and Fabius Maximus could exhibit were flocks and herds, waggons 
 of rude structure, and heaps of spears and helmets. But now, for the first time, 
 the riches of Asia and the arts of Greece adorned a Roman pageant. Plate, fine 
 stuffs, costly furniture, rare animals, exquisite paintings and sculptures, formed 
 part of the procession. At the banquet would be assembled a crowd of warriors 
 and statesmen, among whom Manius Curius Dentatus would take the highest room. 
 Caius Fabricius Luscinus, then, after two Consulships and two triumphs. Censor 
 of the Commonwealth, would doubtless occupy a place of honour at the board. 
 In situations less conspicuous probably lay some of those who were, a few years 
 later, the terror of Carthage ; Caius Duilius, the founder of the maritime greatness 
 of his country ; Marcus Atilius Regulus, who owed to defeat a renown far higher 
 than that which he had derived from his victories ; and Caius Lutatius Catulus, 
 who, while suffering from a grievous wound, fought the grea"; battle of the yEgates, 
 and brought the first Punic war to a triumphant close. It is impossible to recount 
 the names of these eminent citizens, without reflecting that they were all, without 
 exception. Plebeians, and would, but for the ever-memorable struggle maintained 
 by Caius Licinius and Lucius Sextius, have been doomed to hide in obscurity, or 
 to waste in civil broils, the capacity and energy which prevailed against Pyrrhus 
 and Hamilcar. 
 
 On such a day we may suppose that the patriotic enthusiasm of a Latin poet 
 would vent itself in reiterated shouts of lo triuinphc, such as were uttered by 
 Horace on a far less exciting occasion, and in boasts resembling those which Virgil 
 put into the mouth of Anchises. The superiority of some foreiL;:! nations, and 
 especially of the Greeks, in the lazy arts of peace, would be admitted with disdain- 
 ful candour ; but pre-eminence in all the qualities which fit a people to subdue and 
 govern mankind would be claimed for the Romans. 
 
 The following lay belongs to the latest age of Latin ballad-poetr}'. Nasvius 
 and Livius Andronicus were probably among the children whose mothers held 
 them up to see the chariot of Curius go by. The minstrel who sang on that day 
 might possibly have lived to read the first hexameters of Ennius, and to see the 
 first comedies of Plautus. His poem, as might be expected, shows a much wider 
 
8o 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 acquaintance with tlie geography, manners, and productions of remote nations, 
 than would have been found in compositions of the age of Camillus. But he 
 troubles himself little about dates, and having heard travellers talk with admiration 
 of the Colossus of Rhodes, and of the structures and gardens with which the 
 Macedonian kings of Syria had embellished their residence on the banks of the 
 Orontes, he has never thought of inquiring whether these things existed in the age 
 of Romulus. 
 
 
 H _^\ 
 
 K^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 \/ N 
 
 y 
 
RO/A/E 
 
 PKHA^KDIA. 
 
 THE PROPHFXY OF CAPYS. 
 
 A LAY SUNG AT THE BANQUET IN THE CAPITOL, ON THE DAY \VHEREON MANIUS 
 CURIUS DENTATUS, A SECOND TIME CONSUL, TRIUMPHED OVER KING 
 PYRRHUS AND THE TARENTINES, IN THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCCLXXIX. 
 
 ^S^>'?$J',]0\V slain is King Amulius, 
 Of the great Sylvian line, 
 Who reigned in Alba Longa, 
 ^ On the throne of Aventine. 
 Slain is the Pontiff Gamers, 
 
 Who spake the words of doom : 
 ' The children to the Tiber ; 
 The nunliLT to llic tomb.' 
 
 In Alba's lake no fisher 
 His net to-day is flinging : 
 
 On the dark rind of Alba's oaks 
 To-day no axe is ringing : 
 
 The yoke hangs o'er the manger : 
 The scythe lies in the hay : 
 
 Through all the Alban villages 
 dore to-da-*'. 
 
82 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 III. 
 
 And every Alban burgher 
 
 Hath donned his whitest gown ; 
 And every head in Alba 
 
 Weareth a poplar crown ; 
 And every Alban door-post 
 
 With boughs and ilowers is gay : 
 For to-day the dead are living ; 
 
 The lost are found to-day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 They were doomed by a bloody king : 
 They were doomed by a lying priest : 
 
 They were cast on the raging flood : 
 They were tracked by the raging beast : 
 
 The ravening she-wolf knew them, 
 
 And licked them o'er and o'er, 
 And gave them of her own fierce milk, 
 
 Rich with raw flesh and gore. 
 Twenty winters, twenty springs, 
 
 Since then have rolled away ; 
 And to-day the dead are living : 
 
 The lost are found to-day. 
 
 V,. t 
 
 Blithe it was to see the twins, 
 Right goodly youths and tall, 
 
 Marching from Alba Longa 
 To their old grandsire's hall. 
 
 Along their path fresh garlands 
 Are hung from tree to tree ; 
 
 Raging beast and raging flood 
 Alike have spared the prey ; 
 
 And to-day the dead are living ; 
 The lost are found to-day. 
 
 The troubled river knew them, 
 And smoothed his yellow foam, 
 
 And gently rocked the cradle 
 That bore the fate of Rome. 
 
 Before them stride the pipers, 
 Piping a note of glee. 
 
 VII. 
 
 On the right goes Romulus, 
 With arms to the elbows red, 
 
 And in his hand a broadsword, 
 And on the blade a head — ■ 
 
 A head in an iron helmet, 
 
 With horse-hair hanging down, 
 
THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 
 
 83 
 
 A shaggy head, a swarthy head, 
 
 On each side every hamlet 
 
 Fixed in a ghastly frown — 
 
 Pours forth its jo}ous crowd, 
 
 The head of King Amuhus 
 
 Shouting lads and ba)-ing dogs 
 
 Of the great Sylvian line, 
 
 And children laughing loud. 
 
 Who reigned in Alba Longa, 
 
 And old men weeping fondly 
 
 On the throne of Aventine. 
 
 As Rhea's boys go b)-. 
 
 
 And maids who shriek to see the heads, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Yet, shrieking, press more nigh. 
 
 On the left side goes Remus, 
 
 
 With wrists and fingers red, 
 
 X. 
 
 And in his hand a boar-spear. 
 
 So they marched along the lake ; 
 
 And on the point a head — 
 
 They marched by fold and stall, 
 
 A wrinkled head and aged. 
 
 With silver beard and hair, 
 And holy fillets round it. 
 
 Such as the pontiffs wear — ■ 
 The head of ancient Gamers, 
 
 Who spake the words of doom 
 The children to the Tiber ; 
 
 The mother to the tomb.' 
 
 IX. 
 
 Two and two behind the twins 
 Their trusty comrades go, 
 
 Four and forty valiant men. 
 With club, and a.xe, and bow. 
 
 By corn-field and by vineyard. 
 Unto the old man's hall. 
 
 XI. 
 
 In the hall-gate sate Capys, 
 
 Capys, the sightless seer ; ~-^ 
 From head to foot he trembled 
 
 As Romulus drew near. 
 And up stood stiff his thin white hair. 
 
 And his blind eyes flashed fire : 
 ' Hail ! foster child of the wonderous 
 nurse ! 
 
 Hail ! son of the wonderous sire ! 
 
84 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 XII. 
 
 ' But thou — -.vhat dost thou here 
 In the old man's peaceful hall ? 
 
 What doth the eagle in the coop, 
 The bison in the stall ? 
 
 Our corn fills many a garner ; 
 Our vines clasp many a tree ; 
 
 Thou shalt not drink from amber ; 
 
 Thou shalt not rest on down ; 
 Arabia shall not steep thy locks, 
 
 Nor Sidon tinge thy gown. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ' Leave gold and myrrh and jewels. 
 Rich table and soft bed, 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ..... 
 
 Our flocks are white on many a hill, 
 But these are not for thee. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 ' For thee no treasure ripens 
 
 In the Tartessian mine : 
 For thee no ship brings precious bales 
 
 Across the Libyan brine : 
 
 To them who of man's seed arc born, 
 
 Whom woman's milk have fed. 
 Thou wast not made for lucre, 
 
 For pleasure, nor for rest ; 
 Thou, that are sprung from the War- 
 god's loins, 
 And hast tugged at the she-wolfs 
 breast. 
 
THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 
 
 XV. 
 
 ' From sunrise unto sunset 
 
 All earth shall hear thy fame : 
 A glorious city thou shalt build, 
 
 And name it by thy name : 
 And there, unquenched through ages, 
 
 Like Vesta's sacred fire, 
 Shall live the spirit of thy nurse. 
 
 The spirit of thy sire. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 ' But thy nurse will hear no master 
 
 Thy nurse will bear no load ; 
 And woe to them that shear her, 
 
 And woe to them that goad ! 
 When all the pack, loud baying. 
 
 Her bloody lair surrounds. 
 She dies in silence, biting hard. 
 
 Amidst the dving hounds. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 * The ox toils through the furrow, 
 
 Obedient to the goad ; 
 The patient ass, up flinty paths. 
 
 Plods with his weary load : 
 With whine and bound the spaniel 
 
 His master's whistle hears ; 
 And the sheep yields her patiently 
 
 To the loud clashing shears. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ' Pomona loves the orchard ; 
 
 And Liber loves the vine ; 
 And Pales loves the straw-built shed 
 
 Warm with the breath of kine ; 
 And Venus loves the whispers 
 
 Of plighted youth and maid, 
 In April's ivory moonlight 
 
 Beneath the chestnut shade. 
 
 ^ B R A z?^ 
 
 OF THK ,^ 
 
 UNIVERSITY ) 
 
LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 
 The even trench, the bristling mound, 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The legion's ordered line ; 
 
 ' But thy father loves the clashing 
 
 And thine the wheels of triumph, 
 
 Of broadsword and of shield : 
 
 Which with their laurelled train 
 
 He loves to drink the steam that reeks 
 
 Move slowly up the shouting streets 
 
 From the fresh battlefield : 
 
 To Jove's eternal fane. 
 
 He smiles a smile more dreadful 
 
 
 Than his own dreadful frown, 
 
 XXII. 
 
 When he sees the thick black cloud of 
 
 
 smoke 
 
 ' Beneath thy yoke the Volscian 
 
 Go up from the conquered town. 
 
 Shall vail his lofty brow : 
 
 
 Soft Capua's curled revellers 
 
 XX. 
 
 Before thy chairs shall bow : 
 
 ' And such as is the War-god, 
 
 The Lucumoes of Arnus 
 
 The author of thy line, 
 
 Shall quake thy rods to see ; 
 
 And such as she who suckled thee, 
 
 Even such be thou and thine. 
 Leave to the soft Campanian 
 
 His baths and his perfumes ; 
 Leave to the sordid race of Tyre 
 
 Their dyeing-vats and looms : 
 Leave to the sons of Carthage 
 
 The rudder and the oar : 
 Leave to the Greek his marble Nymphs 
 
 And scrolls of wordy lore. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 ' Thine, Roman, is the pilum : 
 Roman, the sword is thine. 
 
 And the proud Samnite's heart of steel 
 Shall yield to only thee. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 ' The Gaul shall come against thee 
 From the land of snow and night : 
 
 Thou shalt give his fair-haired armies 
 To the raven and the kite. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 ' The Greek shall come against thee, 
 The conqueror of the East. 
 
 Beside him stalks to battle 
 The huge earth-shaking beast. 
 
 U^ 
 
THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. 
 
 87 
 
 The beast on whom the castle 
 
 With all its guards doth stand, 
 The beast who hath between his e)es 
 
 The serpent for a hand. 
 First march the bold Epirotes, 
 
 Wedged close with shield and spear ; 
 And the ranks of false Tarentum 
 
 Are glittering in the rear. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 ' The ranks of false Tarentum 
 Like hunted sheep shall fly : 
 
 In vain the bold Epirotes 
 
 Shall round their standards die : 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 ' Hurrah ! for the great triumph 
 
 That stretches many a mile. 
 Hurrah I for the wan captives 
 
 That pass in endless file. 
 Ho I bold Epirotes, whither 
 
 Hath the Red King ta'en flight ? 
 Ho ! dogs of false Tarentum, 
 
 Is not the gown washed white ? 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 ' Hurrah ! for the great triumph 
 That stretches many a mile. 
 
 And Apennine's grey vultures 
 
 Shall have a noble feast 
 On the fat and the eyes 
 
 Of the huge earth-shaking beast. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 ' Hurrah ! for the good weapons 
 
 That keep the War-god's land. 
 Hurrah ! for Rome's stout pilum 
 
 In a stout Roman hand. 
 Hurrah ! for Rome's short broadsword, 
 
 That through the thick array 
 Of levelled spears and serried shields 
 
 Hews deep its gory way. 
 
 Hurrah ! for the rich dye of Tyre, 
 
 And the fine web of Nile, 
 The helmets gay with plumage 
 
 Torn from the pheasant's wings, 
 The belts set thick with starr)- gems 
 
 That shone on Indian kings. 
 The urns of massy silver, 
 
 The goblets rough with gold, 
 The many-coloured tablets bright 
 
 With loves and wars of old. 
 The stone that breathes and struggles, 
 
 The brass that seems to speak ; — 
 Such cunning they who dwell on high 
 
 Have given unto the Greek. 
 
88 
 
 LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 ' Hurrah I for Manius Curius, 
 
 The bravest son of Rome, 
 Thrice in utmost need sent forth, 
 
 Thrice drawn in triumph home. 
 Weave, weave, for Manius Curius 
 
 The third embroidered gown : 
 Make ready the third lofty car, 
 
 And twine the third green crown 
 And yoke the steeds of Rosea 
 
 With necks hke a bended bow. 
 And deck the bull, Mevania's bull. 
 
 The bull as white as snow. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 ' Blest and thrice blest the Roman 
 Who sees Rome's brightest day. 
 
 Who sees that long victorious pomp 
 Wind down the Sacred Way, 
 
 And through the bellowing Forum, 
 And round the Suppliant's Grove, 
 
 Up to the everlasting gates 
 Of Capitolian Jove. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 ' Then where, o'er two bright havens 
 
 The towers of Corinth frown ; 
 Where the gigantic King of Day 
 
 On his own Rhodes looks down ; 
 Where soft Orontes murmurs 
 
 Beneath the laurel shades ; 
 Where Nile reflects the endless length 
 
 Of dark-red colonnades ; 
 Where in the still deep water, 
 
 Sheltered from waves and blasts. 
 Bristles the dusky forest 
 
 Of Byrsa's thousand masts ; 
 Where fur-clad hunters wander 
 
 Amidst the northern ice ; 
 Where through the sand of morning-land 
 
 The camel bears the spice ; 
 Where Atlas flings his shadow 
 
 Far o'er the western foam, 
 Shall be great fear on all who hear 
 
 The mighty name of Rome.' 
 
v>^ 
 
 7a? /Tii. (f^^-c 
 
 sirJ^ii^K::^^. 
 
 ^^"'■^^^L 
 
 IVRY 
 
 A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS 
 
 AND 
 
 THE ARMADA 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 •^^ 
 
(tS^-I 
 
J OF THE 
 
 TJNIVERSITY , 
 
 IVRY: 
 
 A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 
 
 ^Lcaliforh^ 
 
 OW glor)' to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are ! 
 And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre ! 
 Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, 
 Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land 
 of France ! 
 
 And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, 
 Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. 
 As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, 
 For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy. 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war, 
 Hurrah 1 Hurrah ! for Ivry, and Henry of Navarre. 
 
 Oh 1 how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day, 
 We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array ; 
 With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, 
 And AppenzeFs stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears. 
 There rode the brood cff false Lorraine, the curses of our land ; 
 And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand : 
 And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled flood. 
 And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood ; 
 
92 IVRY: A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 
 
 And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, 
 To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. 
 
 The King is come to marshal us, in all his armour drest, 
 
 And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. 
 
 He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye ; 
 
 He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high. 
 
 Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, 
 
 Down all our line, a deafening shout, ' God save our Lord the King 1 ' 
 
 ' And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, 
 
 ' For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, 
 
 ' Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war, 
 
 'And be your oriflamme to-day the helmet of Navarre.' 
 
 Hurrah ! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din 
 
 Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin. 
 
 The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's plain, 
 
 With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne, 
 
 Now by the lips of those }c lo\ e, fair gentlemen of France, 
 
 Charge for the golden lilies, — upon them with the lance. 
 
 A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, 
 
 A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; 
 
 And in they burst, and on they rushed, while like a guiding star. 
 
 Amidst the thickest carnage lilazed the helmet of Navarre. 
 
 Now, God be praised, the day is ours. Mayenne hath turned his rein. 
 
 D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. 
 
 Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale ; 
 
 The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and clo\en mail. 
 
 And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, 
 
 ' Remember St. Bartholomew,' was passed from man to man. 
 
 But out spake gentle Henry, ' No Frenchman is my foe : 
 
 ' Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.' 
 
 Oh ! was there ever such a knight in friendship or in war. 
 
 As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre ? 
 
 Right well fought all the Frenchmen who fought for France to-day ; 
 
 And many a lordly banner God gave them for a prey. 
 
 But we of the religion have borne us best in fight ; 
 
 And the good Lord of Rosny has ta'en the cornet white. 
 
 Our own true Maximilian the cornet white hath ta'en, 
 
 The cornet white with crosses black, the flag of false Lorraine. 
 
n'RY:A SONG OF THE HUGUENOTS. 
 
 93 
 
 lip with it high ; unfurl it wide ; that all the host may know 
 How God hath humbled the proud house which wrought His church such woe. 
 Then on the ground, while trumpets sound their loudest point of war, 
 Fling the red shreds, a footcloth meet for Henry of Navarre. 
 
 Ho ! maidens of Vienna ; Ho ! matrons of Lucerne ; 
 
 Weep, weep, and rend )our hair for those who never shall return. 
 
 Ho ! Phihp, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, 
 
 That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls. 
 
 Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright ; 
 
 Ho ! burghers of Saint Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night. 
 
 For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave, 
 
 And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valour of the brave. 
 
 Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are ; 
 
 And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre. 
 
 lS2'. 
 
 
 <^' 
 
THE ARMADA 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 TTEND, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise ; 
 I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days, 
 When that great fleet invincible against her bore in vain 
 The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain. 
 
 It was about the lovely close of a warm summer day, 
 There came a gallant merchant-ship full sail to Pl)'mouth Bay ; 
 Her crew hath seen Castile's black fleet, beyond Aurigny's isle, 
 At earliest twilight, on the waves lie heaving many a mile. 
 At sunrise she escaped their van, by God's especial grace ; 
 And the tall Pinta, till the noon, had held her close in chase. 
 Forthwith a guard at e\ery gun was placed along the wall ; 
 The beacon blazed upon the roof of Edgecumbe's lofty hall ; 
 Many a light fishing-bark put out to pry along the coast. 
 And with loose rein and bloody spur rode inland many a post. 
 'tV'ith his white hair unbonneted, the stout old sherifi" comes ; 
 Behind him march the halberdiers ; before him sound the drums ; 
 His yeomen round the market cross make clear an ample space; 
 For there behoves him to set up the standard of Her Grace. 
 
THE ARMADA; A FRAGMENT. 95 
 
 ^ f 
 
 And haughtily the trumpets peal, and gaily dance the bells, 
 As slow upon the labouring wind the royal blazon swells. 
 ' Look how the Lion of the sea lifts up his ancient crown, 
 ~ And underneath his deadly paw treads the gay lilres down. 
 
 So stalked he when he turn'ed to flight, on that famed Picard field, 
 
 Bohemia's plume, and Genoa's bow, and Cresar's eagle shield. 
 
 So glared he when at Agincourt in wrath he turned to bay, 
 
 And crushed and torn beneath his claws the princely hunters lay. 
 
 Ho ! strike the flagstaff deep, Sir Knight : ho ! scatter flowers, fair maids 
 
 Ho ! gunners, fire a loud salute : ho ! gallants, draw your blades : 
 
 Thou sun, shine on her joyously ; ye breezes, waft her wide ; 
 
 Our glorious SEMPER EADEM, the banner of our pride. 
 
 The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy fold ; 
 The parting gleam of sunshine kissed that haughty scroll of gold ; 
 
 ■^ Night sank upon the dusky beach, and on the purple sea, 
 Such night in England tie'er had been, nor e'er again shall be. 
 From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay, 
 
 ■ That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day ; 
 For swift to east and swift to west the ghastly war-flame spread. 
 High on St. Michael's Mount it shone : it shone on Beachy Head. 
 Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, along each southern shire. 
 Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points of fire. 
 The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering waves : 
 The rugged miners poured to war from Mendip's sunless caves ! 
 O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, the fiery herald flew : 
 He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu. 
 Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol town, 
 And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton down ; 
 The sentinel on Whitehall gate looked forth into the night. 
 And saw o'erhanging Richmond Hill the streak of blood-red light, 
 Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the deathlike silence broke, 
 And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke. 
 At once on all her stately gates arose the answering fires ; 
 At once the wild alarum clashed from all her reeling spires ; 
 
 -- From all the batteries of the Tower pealed loud the voice of fear ; 
 And all the thousand masts of Thames sent back a louder cheer ; 
 And from the furthest wards was heard the rush of hun-j-ing feet. 
 And the broad streams of pikes and flags rushed down each roaring street 
 And broader still became the blaze, and louder still the din. 
 As fast from every village round the horse came spurring in : 
 And eastward straight from wild Blackhcath the warlike errand went. 
 And roused in many an ancient hall the gallant squires of Kent. 
 
96 
 
 THE. ARMADA.; A FRAGMENT 
 
 Southward from Surrey's pleasant hills flew those bright couriers forth ; 
 
 High on bleak Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the north ; 
 
 And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still : 
 
 All night from tower to tower they sprang ; they spi'ang fron-i hill to hill 
 
 Till the proud peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's rocky dales. 
 
 Till like volcanoes flared to hea\'en the stormy hills of Wales, 
 
 Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely height, 
 
 Till streamed in crimson on the wind the Wrekin's crest of light, 
 
 Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's stately fane. 
 
 And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the boundless plain ; 
 
 Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent. 
 
 And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide vale of Trent ; 
 
 Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt's embattled pile. 
 
 And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle. 
 
 1832. 
 
 Printed by Balt.ANTYNE, HANSON & Co., Bdinbiifsh niid London 
 
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