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 A*l
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORY OF ROME, 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 FOUNDATION 
 
 OF 
 
 THE CITY OF ROME, 
 
 TO THE 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE. 
 
 BY 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH, M.B. 
 
 TWELFTH EDITION. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON; G.WILKIE ; SCATCHERD AND 
 LETTERMAN ; T. EGERTON ; J. NUNN ; LONGMAN, HURST, REES, 
 ORME, AND BROWN ; CADELL AND DAVIES ; LAW AND WHITTAKER; 
 3. RICHARDSON ; J. M. RICHARDSON ; J. MAWMAN ; E. WILLIAMS ; 
 LACKINGTON AND CO.; J. BLACK AND SON; GALE AND FENNER; 
 J.BOOKER; BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; WALKER AND 
 EDWARDS; ROUWELL AND MARTIN; AND B. REYNOLDS. 
 
 1817.
 
 lif\ 0'h'\
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 There are some subjects on which a writer 
 must decHne all attempts to acquire fame, satis- 
 fied with being obscurely useful. After such a 
 number of Roman Histories, in all languages, 
 ancient and modern, it would be but imposture 
 to pretend new discoveries, or to expect to offer 
 any thing in a work of this kind, which has 
 not been often anticipated by others. The 
 facts which it relates have been a hundred 
 times repeated, and every occurrence has been 
 so variously considered, that learning can scarce 
 find a new anecdote, or genius give novelty to 
 the old. 
 
 I hope, therefore, for the reader's indulgence, 
 if in the following attempt it shall appear, that 
 my only aim was to supply a concise, plain, 
 and unaffected narrative of the rise and decline 
 of a well known empire. I was contented to
 
 VI ^ PREFACE. 
 
 make such a book, as could not fail of being 
 serviceable, though of all others the most un- 
 likely to promote the reputation of the writer. 
 Instead, therefore, of pressing forward among 
 the ambitious, I only claim the merit of know- 
 ing my own strength, and falling back among 
 the hindmost rank, with conscious inferiority. 
 
 I arh not ignorant, however, that it would be 
 no such difficult task to pursue the same arts by 
 which many dull men, every day, acquire a re- 
 putation in history ; such might easily be at- 
 tained, by fixing on some obscure period to 
 write upon, where much seeming erudition 
 might be displayed, almost unknown, because 
 not worth remembering j and many maxims in 
 politics might be advanced entirely new, be- 
 cause altogether false. But I have pursued a 
 contrary method, choosing the most noted pe- 
 riod in history, and offering no remarks but such 
 as I thought strictly true. 
 
 The reasons of my choice were, that we had 
 no history of this splendid period in our lan- 
 guage, but was either too voluminous for com- 
 mon use, or too meanly written to please. Ca- 
 trou and Rouille's history in six volumes, folio,
 
 Preface. vu 
 
 translated into our language by Bundy, is en- 
 tirely unsuited to the time and expence man- 
 kind usually choose to bestow upon this subject. 
 Rollin, and his continuator, Crevier, making 
 above thirty volumes octavo, seem to labour 
 under the same imputation ; as likewise Hooke, 
 who has spent three quartos upon the republic 
 alone; the rest of his undertaking remaining 
 unfinished. There only therefore remained the 
 history of Echard, in five volumes octavo* 
 whose plan and mine seemed to coincide; and 
 had his execution been equal to his design, it 
 had precluded the present undertaking. But 
 the truth is, it is so- poorly written, the facts so 
 crowded, the narration so spiritless, and the 
 characters so indistinctly marked; that the most 
 ardent curiosity must cool in the perusal, and 
 the noblest transactions that ever warmed the 
 human heart, as described by him, must cease to 
 interest. 
 
 I have endeavoured, therefore, in the present 
 work (or rather compilation) to obviate the in- 
 conveniences arising from the exuberance of 
 the former, as well as from the unpleasantness 
 of the latter. It was supposed, that two vo-
 
 Yin PREFACE. 
 
 lumes might be made to comprise all that was 
 requisite to be known, or pleasing to be read, 
 by such as only examined history to prepare 
 them for more important studies. Too much 
 time may be given even to laudable pursuits; 
 and there is none more apt than this, to allure 
 the student from more necessary branches of 
 learning, and, if I may so express it, entirely 
 to engross his industry. What is here offered, 
 therefore, may be sufficient for all, but such 
 as make history the peculiar business of their 
 lives; to such, the most tedious narrative will 
 seem but an abridgment, as they measure the 
 merits of a work, rather by the quantity than 
 the quality of its contents. Others, however, 
 who think more soberly, will agree, that in so 
 extensive a field as that of the transactions of 
 Rome, more judgment may be shown, by se- 
 lecting what is important, than by adding what 
 is obscure. The history of this empire has been 
 extended to six volumes folio ; and I aver, that 
 with very little learning, it might be increased 
 to sixteen more; but what would this be, but 
 to load the subject with unimportant facts, anc* 
 so to weaken the narration, as that, like the em-
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 pire it described, it must necessarily sink beneath 
 the weight of its own acquisitions. 
 
 But while I thus have endeavoured to avoid 
 prolixity, it was found no easy matter to prevent 
 crowding the facts, and to give every narrative 
 its proper play. In reality no art can continue 
 to avoid opposrte defects ; he who indulges in 
 minute particularities, will be often languid; 
 and he who studies conciseness, will as fre- 
 quently be dry and unentertaining. As it was 
 my aim to comprise as much as possible in the 
 smallest compass, it is feared the work will often 
 be subject to the latter imputation; but it was 
 impossible to furnish the public with a cheap 
 Roman History in two volumes octavo, and at 
 the same time to give all that warmth to the 
 narrative, all those colourings to the descrip- 
 tion, which works of twenty times the bulk have 
 room to exhibit. I shall be fully satisfied, there- 
 fore, if it furnishes an interest sufScient to allure 
 the reader to the end ; and this is a claim to 
 which few abridgments can justly make preten- 
 sions. 
 
 To these objections there are some who may 
 add, that I have rejected many of the modern
 
 * PREFACt. 
 
 improvements in Roman history, and that every 
 character is left in full possession of that fame 
 or infamy virhich it obtained from its contempo- 
 raries, or those who wrote immediately after. 
 I acknowledge the charge; for it appears now 
 too late to rejudge the virtues or the vices of 
 those men, who were but very incompletely 
 known even to their own historians. The Ro- 
 mans, perhaps, upon many occasions, formed 
 wrong ideas of virtue; but they were by no 
 means so ignorant or abandoned in general, as 
 not to give their brightest characters the greatest 
 share of their applause; and I do not know 
 whether it be fair to try pagan actions by the 
 standard of Christian morality. 
 
 But, whatever may be my execution of this 
 work, I have very little doubts about the success 
 of the undertaking; the subject is the noblest 
 that ever employed human attention, and in- 
 stead of requiring a writer's aid, will even sup- 
 port him with its splendour. The empire of the 
 world rising from the meanest origin, and grow- 
 ing great by a strict veneration for religion, and 
 an implicit confidence in its commanders; con- 
 tinually changing the mode, but seldom the
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 spirit of its government, being a constitution 
 in which the military power, whether under the 
 name of citizens or soldiers, almost always pre- 
 vailed; adopting all the improvements of other 
 nations with the most indefatigable industry, 
 and submitting to be taught by those whom it 
 afterwards subdued : this is a picture that must 
 affect us, however it be disposed ; these mate- 
 rials must have their value, under the hand of 
 the meanest workman.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Of the origin of the Romans • ••»••• Page 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 From the building of Rome to the death of Romulus ... 7 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 From the death of Romulus to the death of Numa 
 Pompilius, the second king of Rome 19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 From the death of Numa to the death of TuUas Hos« 
 tilius, the third king of Rome 23 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 From the death of Tullus Hostilius to the death of An- 
 cus Martius^ the fourth king of Rome 28 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 From the death of Ancus Marlins to the death of Tar- 
 quinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome 30 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 From the death of Tarquinius Priscus to the death of 
 Servius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome 3& 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 From the death of Servius Tullius to the banishment of 
 Tarquinius Superbus, the seventh and last king of 
 Rome 44/
 
 XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 From the banishment of Tarquin to the appointment of 
 the first Dictator Page 5S 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 From the creation of the first Dictator to the election of 
 the Tribunes of the people 63 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 From the creation of the Tribunes to the appointment of 
 the Decemviri S2 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 From the creation of the Decemviri to the extinction of 
 that office 122 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 From the expulsion of the Decemviri bo the burning of 
 Rome by the Gauls .,*,., HO 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 From the wars of the Samnites and the wars with Pyr- 
 rhus, to the beginning of the first Punic war, when the 
 Romans first went out of Italy ISO 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 From the beginning of the first Punic war to the begin- 
 ning of the second, when the Romans began to grow 
 powerful by sea ....v.. 212 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 From the end of the first Punic war to the end of the 
 second 22S 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 From the end of the second Punic war to the end ©f 
 the third, which terminated in the destruction of 
 Carthage ,. 270
 
 CONTENTS. XV 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 From the destruction of Carthage to the end of the sedi- 
 tion of the Gracchi Page 286 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 From the sedition of Gracchus to the perpetual Dictator- 
 ship of Sylla, which was the first step towards the ruin 
 of the commonwealth of Rome 304 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 From the perpetual Dictatorship of Sylla to the Trium- 
 virate of Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus 359 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 From the beginning of the first Triumvirate to the 
 death of Pompey ...••.•..i ..•.•.••....f 386
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the Origin of the Romans, 
 
 All nations seem willing to derive merit from 
 the splendour of their original ; and where history 
 is silent, they generally supply the defect with 
 fable. The Romans were particularly desirous of 
 being thought descended from the gods, as if to 
 hide the meanness of their real ancestry, -^neas, 
 the son of Venus and Anchises, having escaped 
 from the destruction of Troy, after many A. M. 
 adventures and dangers, arrived in Italy 2824. 
 where he was kindly received by Latinus, king 
 of the Latins, who gave him his daughter Lavi- 
 nia in marriage. Italy was then, as it is now, 
 divided into a number of small states, independent 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 9 THE HISTORT OF THE 
 
 of each other, and consequently subject to fre- 
 quent contentions among themselves. Turnus, 
 king of the Rutuli, was the first who opposed 
 ^'Eneas, he having long made pretensions to La- 
 vinia himself. A war ensued, in which the Tro- 
 jan hero was victorious, and Turnus slain. In 
 consequence of this, iEneas built a city, which 
 was called Lavinium, in honour of his wife, and 
 some time after, engaging in another war against 
 Mezentius, one of the petty kings of the country, 
 he was vanquished in turn, and died in battle, 
 after a reign of four years. Ascanius, his son, 
 succeeded to the kingdom, and to him, Silvius a 
 second son, whom he had by Lavinia. It would 
 be tedious and uninteresting to recite a dry ca- 
 talogue of the kings that followed, and of whom 
 we know^ little more than the names; it will be 
 sufficient to say, that the succession continued 
 for near four hundred years in the family, and 
 that Numitor, the fifteenth from ^neas, was the 
 last king of Alba. 
 
 Numitor, who took possession of the kingdom 
 in consequence of his father's will, had a brother 
 named Amulius, to whom were left the treasures 
 which had been brought from Troy. As riches 
 but too generally prevail against right, Amulius 
 made use of his wealth to supplant his brother, 
 and soon found means to possess himself of the 
 kingdom. Not content with the crime of usurp- 
 ation, he added that of murder also. Numitor's 
 sons first fell a sacrifice to his suspicions, and ta 
 remove all apprehensions of being one day dis,.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 3 
 
 turbed in his ill-gotten power, he caused Rhea 
 Silvia, his brother's only daughter, to become a 
 vestal virgin, which office obliging her to perpe- 
 tual celibacy, made him less uneasy as to the 
 claims of posterity. 
 
 His precautious, however, were all frustrated 
 in the event; for Rhea Silvia going to fetch 
 water from a neighbouring grove, was met and 
 ravished by a man, whom, perhaps to palliate 
 her offence, she averred to be Mars, the god of 
 war. Whoever this lover of hers might have 
 been, whether some person had deceived her by 
 assuming so great a name, or Amulius himself,- 
 as some writers are pleased to affirm, it matters 
 not; certain it is, that in due time, she was 
 brought to bed of two boys, who were no sooner 
 born, than devoted, by the usurper, to destruc- 
 tion. The mother was condemned to be buried 
 alive, the usual punishment for vestals who had 
 violated their chastity, and the twins were or- 
 dered to be flung into the river Tiber. It hap- 
 pened, however, at the time this rigorous sen- 
 tence was put into execution, that the river had 
 more than usually overflowed its banks, so that 
 the place where the children were thrown being 
 at at distance from the main current, the water 
 was too shallow to drown them. In this situa- 
 tion, therefore, they continued without harm ; 
 and that no part of their preservation might 
 want its wonders, we are told, that they were 
 for some time suckled there by a wolf, until 
 Faustulus, the king's herdsman, finding themi
 
 4 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 exposed, brought them home to Acca Lau- 
 rentia, his wife, who brought them up as her 
 own. Some, however, will have it, that the 
 nurse's name was Lupa, which gave rise to the 
 story of their being nourished by a wolf; but it 
 is needless to weed out a single improbability 
 from accounts, where the whole is overgrown 
 with fable. 
 
 Romulus and Remus, the twins thus strangely 
 preserved, seemed early to discover abilities and 
 desires above the meanness of their supposed 
 original. The shepherd's life began to displease 
 them, and from tending the flocks, or hunting 
 wild beasts, they soon turned their strength 
 against the robbers round the country, whom 
 they often stript of their plunder to share it 
 among their fellow-shepherds. 
 
 In one of these excursions it was that Remus 
 was taken prisoner by Numitor's herdsmen, who 
 brought him before the king, and accused him 
 of the very crime which he had so often at- 
 tempted to suppress. Romulus, however, being 
 informed by Faustulus of his real birth, was not 
 remiss in assembling a number of his fellow-shep- 
 herds, in order to rescue his brother from prison, 
 and force the kingdom from the hands of the 
 usurper. Yet being too feeble to act openly, he 
 directed his followers to assemble near the place 
 by different ways, while Remus with equal vigi- 
 lance gained upon the citizens within. Amulius, 
 thus beset on all sides, and not knowing what 
 expedient to think ©f for his security, was during
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. . 5 
 
 his amazement and distraction taken and slain, 
 while Numitor, who had been deposed forty- two 
 years, recognised his grandsons, and was once 
 more restored to the throne. 
 
 Numitor being thus in quiet possession of the 
 kingdom^ his grandsons resolved to build a city 
 upon those hills where they had formerly "lived 
 as shepherds. Tlie king had too many obliga- 
 tions to them not to approve their design j he 
 appointed them lands and gave permission to 
 such of his subjects as thought proper to settle 
 in their new colony. Many of the neighbour- 
 ing shepherds also, and such as were fond of 
 change, repaired to the intended city, and pre- 
 pared to raise it. For the more speedy carry- 
 ing on this work the people were divided into 
 two parts, each of which, it was supposed, would 
 industriously emulate each other. But what 
 was designed for an advantage proved nearly 
 fatal to this infant colony ; it gave birth to two 
 factions, one preferring Romulus, the other Re* 
 mus, who themselves were not agreed upon the 
 spot where the city should stand. To terminate 
 this difference they were recommended by the 
 king to take an omen from the flight of birds, 
 and that he whose omen should be most favour- 
 able, should in all respects direct the other. In 
 compliance with this advice, they both took their 
 stations upon different hills; to Remus appeared 
 six vultures, to Romulus, twice that number, so 
 that each party thought itself victorious, the one 
 having the first omen, the other the most nu-
 
 $ THE HISTORl!' OF THE 
 
 merous. This produced a contest which ended 
 in a battle wherein Remus was slain, and it is 
 even said, that he was killed by his brother, who, 
 being provoked at his leaping contemptuously 
 over the city wall, struck him dead upon the 
 spot, at the same time professing, that none 
 should ever insult his walls with impunity. 
 
 Romulus, being now sole commander, and 
 eighteen years of age, began the foundation of a 
 city that was one day to give laws to the world. 
 It was called Rome after the name of the founder, 
 A. M. ^^^ built upon the Palatine hill, on which 
 3252. he had taken his successful omen. The 
 A. c. city was at first almost square, containing 
 752. about a thousand houses. It was near a 
 mile in compass, and commanded a small terri- 
 tory round it of about eight miles over. How- 
 ever, small as it appears, it was, notwithstanding, 
 worse inhabited; and the first method made use 
 of to increase its numbers, was the opening a 
 sanctuary for all malefactors, slaves, and such as 
 were desirous of novelty. These came in great 
 multitudes, and contributed to increase the num- 
 ber of our legislator's new subjects. To have a 
 just idea therefore of Rome in its infant state, we 
 have only to imagine a collection of cottages 
 surrounded by a feeble wall, rather built to serve 
 as a military retreat, than for the purposes of civil 
 society, rather filled with a tumultuous and vicious 
 rabble, than with subjects bred to obedience and 
 control; we have only to conceive men bred 
 to rapine, living in a place that merely seemed
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROM£. 7 
 
 calculated for the security of plunder; and yet, 
 to our astonishment, we shall soon find this tu- 
 multuous concourse uniting in the strictest bonds 
 of society ; this lawless rabble putting on the 
 most sincere regard for religion, and though 
 composed of the dregs of mankind, setting ex- 
 amples, to all the world, of valour and virtue. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 From the Building of Rome, to the Death of 
 Romulus, 
 
 Scarce was the city raised above its foundation, 
 when its rude inhabitants began to think of giv- 
 ing someform to their constitution. Their firstob- 
 ject was to unite liberty and empire; to form a 
 kind of mixed monarchy, by which all power was 
 to be divided between the prince and the people. 
 Romulus, by an act of great generosity, left them 
 at liberty to choose whom they would for their 
 king, and they in gratitude concurred to elect 
 their founder: he was accordingly acknowledged 
 as chief of their religion, sovereign magistrate of 
 Rome, and general of the army. Beside a guard 
 to attend his person, it was agreed that he should 
 be preceded wherever he went by twelve men, 
 armed with axes tied up in a bundle of rods, 
 who were to serve as executioners of the law.
 
 S THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 and to impress his new subjects with an idea of 
 his authority. Yet still this authority was under 
 very great restrictions, as his whole power con- 
 sisted in calling the senate together, in assem- 
 bling the people, in conducting the army, when 
 it was decreed by the other part of the constitu- 
 tion that they should go to war, and in appoint- 
 ing the questors, or treasurers of the public 
 money, officers which we may suppose at that 
 time had but very little employment, as nei- 
 ther the soldiers nor magistrates received any 
 pay. 
 
 The senate, which was to act as counsellors to 
 the king, was composed of an hundred of the 
 principal citizens of Rome, consisting of men 
 vv^hose age, wisdom, or valour, gave them a na- 
 tural authority over their fellow-subjects. The 
 king named the first senator, and appointed him 
 to the government of the city, whenever war re- 
 quired the general's absence. In this respecta- 
 ble assembly was transacted all the important 
 business of the state, the king himself presiding, 
 although every question was to be determined by 
 a majority of voices. As they were supposed to 
 have a parental affection for the people, they 
 were called fathers, and their descendants, pa- 
 tricians. To the patricians belonged all the dig- 
 nified offices of the state, as well as of the priest- 
 hood. To these they were appointed by the 
 senate and the people, while the lower ranks of 
 citizens, who were thus excluded from all views 
 of promotion for themselves, were to expect ad-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 9 
 
 vantages only from their valour in war, or their 
 assiduity in agriculture. 
 
 The plebeians, who composed the third part 
 of the legislature, assumed to themselves the pow- 
 er of authorising those laws which were passed by 
 the king or the senate. All things relative to 
 peace or war,, to the election of magistrates, and 
 even to the choosing a king, were confirmed by 
 their suffrages. In their numerous assemblies all 
 enterprises against the enemy were proposed, 
 while the senate had only a power of rejecting 
 or approving their designs. Thus was the state 
 composed of three orders, each a check upon the 
 other: the people resolved whether the proposals 
 of the king were pleasing to them, the senate 
 deliberated upon the expediency of the measure, 
 and the king gave vigour and spirit by directing 
 the execution. But though the people by these 
 regulations seemed in possession of great power, 
 yet there was onecircumstance which contributed 
 greatly to its diminution, namely, the rights of 
 patronage, which were lodged in the senate. The 
 king, sensible that in every state there must be 
 a dependence of the poor upon the power- 
 ful, gave permission to every plebeian to choose 
 one among the senators for a patron. The bond 
 between them was of the strongest kind; the 
 patron was to give protection to his client, to 
 assist him with his advice and fortune, to plead 
 for him before the judge, and to rescue him from 
 every oppression. On the other hand, the client 
 attached himself to the interests of his patr-on>
 
 10 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 assisted him, if poor, to portion his daughters, 
 to pay his debts, or his ransom in case of being 
 taken prisoner. He was to follow him on every 
 service of danger; whenever he stood candidate 
 for an office, he was obliged to give him his suf- 
 frage, and was prohibited from giving testimony 
 in a court of justice, whenever his evidence af- 
 fected the interests of his patron. These reciprocal 
 duties were held so sacred, that any who violated 
 them were ever after held infamous, and excluded 
 from all the protection of the laws : so that from 
 hence we see the senate in effect possessed of ihe 
 suffrages of their clients, since all that was left 
 the people was only the power of choosing what 
 patron they should obey. Among a nation so 
 barbarous and fierce as the first Romans, it was 
 wise to enforce obedience, as the most requisite 
 duty. 
 
 The first care of the new-created king was to 
 attend to the interests of religion, and to endea- 
 vour to humanize his subjects, by the notion of 
 other rewards and punishments than those of 
 human law. The precise form of their worship 
 is unknown ; but the greatest part of the reli- 
 gion of that age consisted in a firm reliance upon 
 the credit of their soothsayers, who pretended, 
 from observations on the flight of birds and the 
 entrails of beasts, to direct the present, and to 
 dive into futurity. This pious fraud, which first 
 arose from ignorance, soon became a most useful 
 machine in the hands of government. Romulus, 
 by 4n express law, commanded, that no election
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 11 
 
 should be made, no enterprise undertaken, with- 
 out first consulting the soothsayers. With equal 
 wisdom he ordained, that no new divinities should 
 be introduced into public worship, that the priest- 
 hood should continue for life, and that none 
 should be elected into it before the age of fifty. 
 He forbade them to mix fable with the mysteries 
 of their religion ; and that they might be qua- 
 lified to teach others, he ordered that they 
 should be the historiographers of the times; so 
 that while instructed by priests like these, the 
 people could never degenerate into total barba- 
 rity. 
 
 Of his other laws we have but few fragments 
 remaining. In these, however, we learn, that 
 wives were forbid, upon any pretext whatso- 
 ever, to separate from their husbands; while, on 
 the contrary, the husband was empowered to 
 repudiate the wife, and even to put her to death 
 with the consent of her relations, in case she was 
 detected in adultery, in attempting to poison, in 
 making false keys, or even of having drank too 
 much wine. Flis laws between children and their 
 parents were yet still more severe: the father 
 had entire power over his offspring, both of fortune 
 and life; he could sell them or imprison them at 
 any time of their lives, or in any stations to which 
 they were arrived. The father might expose his 
 children, if born with any deformities, having 
 previously communicated his intentions to his 
 five next of kindred. Our lawgiver seemed more 
 kind even to his enemies, for his subjects were
 
 12 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 prohibited from killing them after they bad sur- 
 rendered, or even from selling them : his ambi- 
 tion only aimed at diminishing the number of his 
 enemies by making friends of them. 
 
 After so many endeavours to increase his sub- 
 jects, and so many laws to regulate them, he 
 next gave orders to ascertain their numbers. The 
 whole amounted but to three thousand foot, and 
 about as many hundred horsemen, capable of 
 bearing arms. These, therefore, were divided 
 equally into three tribes, and to each he assigned 
 a different part of the city. Each of these tribes 
 were subdivided into ten curia3 or companies, 
 consisting of an hundred men each, with a cen- 
 turion to command it, a priest called curio to 
 perform the sacrifices, and two of the principal 
 inhabitants, called duumviri, to distribute justice. 
 Accordingly to the number of curiae he divided 
 the lands into thirty parts, reserving one portion 
 for pubhc uses, and another for religious cere- 
 monies. The simplicity and frugality of the 
 times will be best understood by observing, that 
 each citizen had not above two acres of ground 
 for his own subsistence. Of the horsemen men- 
 tioned above, there were chosen ten from each 
 curia; they were particularly appointed to fight 
 round the person of the king; of them his guard 
 was composed, and from their alacrity in battle, 
 or from the name of their first commander, they 
 were called celcres, a word equivalent to our 
 light horsemen. 
 
 A government thus wisely instituted, it may
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 13 
 
 be supposed, induced numbers to come and live 
 under it : each day added to its strength, multi- 
 tudes flocked in from all the adjacent towns, and 
 it only seemed to want women to ascertain its 
 duration. In this exigence, Romulus, by the 
 advice of the senate, sent deputies among the 
 Sabines, his neighbours, entreating their alliance, 
 and upon these terms offering to cement the most 
 strict confederacy with them. The Sabines, who 
 were then considered as the most warlike people 
 of Italy, rejected the proposition with disdain, 
 and some even added raillery to the refusal, de- 
 manding, that as he had opened a sanctuary for 
 fugitive slav'es, why he had not also opened an- 
 other for prostitute women. This answer quick- 
 ly raised the indignation of the Romans ; and the 
 king, inprder to gratify their resentment, while he 
 at the same time should people his city, resolved 
 to obtain by force, what was denied to entreaty. 
 For this purpose he proclaimed a feast, in ho- 
 nour of Neptune, throughout all the neigh- 
 bouring villages, and made the most magnificent 
 preparations for it. These feasts were generally 
 preceded by sacrifices, and ended in shows of 
 wrestlers, gladiators, and chariot-courses. The 
 Sabines, as he had expected, were among the 
 foremost who came to be spectators, bringing 
 their wives and daughters with them to share the 
 pleasure of the sight. The inhabitants also of 
 many of the neighbouring towns came, who were 
 received by the Romans vv'ith marks of the most 
 cordial hospitality. In the mean time the games
 
 14 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 began, and while the strangers were most intent 
 uponthe spectacle, a number of the Roman youth 
 rushed in among them with drawn swords, seized 
 the youngest and most beautiful women, and 
 carried them ofi by violence. In vain the parents 
 protested against this breach of hospitality; in 
 vain the virgins themselves at first opposed the 
 attempts of their ravishers; perseverance and 
 caresses obtained those favours which timidity at 
 first denied: so that the betrayers, from being 
 objects of aversion, soon became partners of their 
 dearest affections. 
 
 But however the affront might have been borne 
 by them, it was not so easily put up jby their pa- 
 rents; a bloody war ensued. The cities of Cenina, 
 Antemna, and Crustumium, were the first who 
 resolved to revenge the common cause, which the 
 Sabines seemed too dilatory in pursuing. These, 
 by making separate inroads, became a more easy 
 conquest to Romulus, who first overthrew the 
 Ceninenses, slew their king Acron in single com- 
 bat, and made an offering of the royal spoils to 
 Jupiter Feretrius, on the spot where the capitol 
 was afterwards built. The Antemnates and Cru- 
 stuminians shared the same fate, their armies 
 were overthrown, and their cities taken. The 
 conqueror, however, made the most merciful use 
 of his victory; for instead of destroying their 
 towns, or lessening their numbers, he only placed 
 colonies of Romans in them, to serve as a frontier 
 to repress more distant invasions. 
 
 Tatius, king of Cures, a Sabine city, was the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 15 
 
 Jast, although the most formidable, who under- 
 took to revenge the disgrace his country had 
 suffered. He entered the Roman territories at the 
 head of twenty five thousand men, and not con- 
 tent with a superiority of forces, he added strata- 
 gem also. Tarpeia, who was daughter to the 
 commander of the Capitoline hill, happened to 
 fail into his hands, as she went without the walls 
 of the city to fetch water. Upon her he prevailed, 
 by means of large promises, to betray one of the 
 gates to his army. The reward she engaged for 
 was what thesoldiers wore on their arms, by which 
 she meant their bracelets. They, however, either 
 mistaking her meaning, or willing to punish her 
 perfidy, threw their bucklers upon her as they 
 entered, and crushed her to death beneath them. 
 The Sabines, being thus possessed of the Capito- 
 line, had the advantage of continuing the war at 
 their pleasure j and for some time only slight en- 
 counters passed between them. At length, how- 
 ever, the tediousness of this contest began to 
 weary out both parties, so that each wislied, but 
 neither would stoop, to sue for peace. The desire 
 of peace often gives vigour to measures in war; 
 wherefore both sides resolving to terminate their 
 doubts by a decisive action, a general engagement 
 ensued, which was renewed for several days, with 
 almost equal snccQss. They both fought for 
 all that was valuable in life, and neither could 
 think of submitting: it was in the valley between 
 the Capitoline and Quirinal hills, that the last 
 engagement was fought between the Romans and
 
 16 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the Sabines. The engagement became general, 
 and the slaughter prodigious, when the attention 
 of both sides was suddenly turned from the scene 
 of horror before them, to another infinitely more 
 striking. The Sabine women who had been 
 carried off by the Romans, were seen with their 
 hair loose and their ornaments neglected, flying 
 in between the combatants, regardless of their 
 own danger, and with loud outcries only solicit- 
 ous for that of their parents, their husbands, and 
 their children. " If," cried they, " you are re- 
 " solved upon slaughter, turn your arms upon 
 " us, since we only are the cause of your ani- 
 ** mosity. If any must die, let it be us ; since, if 
 " our parents or our husbands fall, we must be 
 " equally miserable in being thesurviving cause." 
 A spectacle so moving could not be resisted by 
 the combatants; both sides for a while, as if by 
 mutual impulse, let fall their weapons, and be- 
 held the distress in silent amazement. The 
 tears and entreaties of their wives and daughters 
 at length prevailed, an accommodation ensued, 
 by which it was agreed, that Romulus and Ta- 
 tius should reign jointly in Rome, with equal 
 power and prerogative; that an hundred Sabines 
 should be admitted into the senate; that the city 
 should still retain its former name, but that the 
 citizens should be called Q^uirites, after Cures, 
 the principal town of the Sabines; and that both 
 nations being thus united, such of the Sabines as 
 chose it, should be admitted to live and enjoy 
 all the privileges of citizens of Rome. Thus
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 17 
 
 ^very storm which seemed to threaten this grow- 
 ing empire, only served to increase its vigour. 
 That army, which in the morning had resolved 
 upon its destruction, came in the evening with 
 joy to be enrolled among the number of its citi- 
 zens. Romulus saw his dominions and his sub- 
 jects increased by more than half in the space 
 of a few hours ; and, as if fortune meant every 
 way to assist his greatness, Tatius, his partner in 
 the government, was killed about five years after 
 by the Lavinians, for having protected some ser- 
 vants of his, who had plundered them and slain 
 their ambassadors ; so that by this accident Ro- 
 mulus once more saw himself sole monarch of 
 Rome. 
 
 Rome being greatly strengthened by this new 
 acquisition of power, began to grow formidable 
 to her neighbours ; and it may be supposed, that 
 pretexts for war were not wanting, when prompt- 
 ted by jealousy on their side, and by ambition 
 on that of the Romans. Fidena and Cameria, 
 two neighbouring cities, were subdued and'taken. 
 Veii also, one of the most powerful states of Etru- 
 ria, shared nearly the same fate: after two fierce 
 engagements they sued for peace and a league, 
 which was granted upon giving up the seventh 
 part of their dominions, their salt-pits near the 
 river, and hostages for greater security. 
 
 Successes like these produced an equal share of 
 pride in the conqueror. From being contented 
 with those limits which had been wisely fixed to 
 his power, he began to affect absolute sway, and 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 ^IJE ^JISTORV OF TJ^E 
 
 to govern those laws, to which he had himself 
 formerly professed implicit oheclience. The se- 
 nate was particularly displeased at his conduct, 
 finding themselves only used as instruments to 
 ratify the rigour of his commands. We are not 
 told the precise manner which they made use of 
 to get rid of the tyrant : some say that he was torn 
 in pieces in the senate-house; others that he dis- 
 appeared while reviewing his army; certain it is, 
 that from the secrecy of the fact, and the conceal- 
 ment of the body, they took occasion to persuade 
 the multitude, that he was taken up into heaven: 
 thus him whom they could not bear as a king, 
 they were contented to worship as a god. 
 
 Romulus reigned thirty-seven years, and after 
 his death had a temple built to him under the 
 name of Quirinus, one of the senators solemnly 
 ^liTirming, that he had appeared to him, and de- 
 sired to be invoked by that title. We see little 
 more in the character of this prince, than what 
 might be expected in such an age, great temper- 
 ance and great valour, which generally make up 
 the catalogue of savage virtues. However, the 
 grandeur of an empire admired by the whole 
 world, creates in us an admiration of the founder, 
 without much examining his title.
 
 COBIMON WEALTH OF ROME. 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 From the Death of Romulus to the Death of Numa 
 Pompilius, the second King of Rome. 
 
 Rome was already grown from its small U. C. 
 beginnings into a very formidable state ; 38. 
 ber forces now amounted to forty-six thousand 
 foot and a thousand horse. The kingdom of Alba 
 also fell in by the death of Numitor, so that it now 
 required some time to unite so great a concourse 
 of new-made subjects into an obedience to one 
 governor : in fact, the city seemed greatly divid- 
 ed in the choice of a successor. The Sabines 
 were for having the king chosen from their body; 
 but the Romans could not bear the thoughts of 
 advancing a stranger to the throne. In this per- 
 plexity the senate undertook to supply the place 
 of the king, by taking the government, each of 
 them in turn for five days, and during that time 
 enjoying all the honours and all the privileges of 
 royalty. This new form of government held a 
 year, nor is it known whether the senate intended, 
 by continuing it, to preserve the sovereign power 
 among themselves, or only to wait for a proper 
 object of their choice, on whom to devolve the 
 regal power. The plebeians, however, who saw 
 that this method of transferring powei* was only 
 multiplying their masters, insisted upon altering 
 that mode of government, allowing the senate a 
 
 c 2
 
 *0 THE HISTORY OJ THE 
 
 choice either of nominating a king, or electing an- 
 nual magistrates from among their number. The 
 senate being thus driven to an election, for some 
 time debated upon the proper form, till at length 
 it was agreed, that the party which elected should 
 nominate from the body of the other, so that the 
 new king would have equal attachments to both ; 
 to the one as his countrymen, to the other as his 
 electors. In consequence of this, the choice being 
 left to the Roman part of the senate, they pitched 
 upon NumaPompilius, a Sabine; and their choice 
 was received with universal approbation by th« 
 rest of the senate and the people. 
 
 Numa Pompilius, who was now about forty, 
 had long been eminent for his piety, his justice, 
 moderation, and exemplary life. He was skilled 
 in all the learning and philosophy of the Sabines, 
 and lived at home at Cures, contented with a 
 private fortune, unambitious of higher honours. 
 It was not therefore without reluctance that he 
 accepted the dignity that was conferred upon 
 him; for he some time continued obstinately to 
 refuse it ; but at length, at the request of his fa- 
 ther, and the persuasions of the ambassadors who 
 were sent to him from Rome, he consented to 
 accept of the kingdom, so that his acceptance 
 produced such joy, that the people seemed not so 
 much to receive a king as a kingdom. 
 
 The Romans were fond of thinking that pro- 
 vidence industriously adapted the various dispo- 
 sitions of its kii>gs to the different necessities of 
 the people ; and indeed in the present instance
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 21 
 
 they were not much mistaken. No monarch 
 could be more proper for them than Numa, at a 
 conjuncture when the government was composed 
 of various petty states lately subdued, and but ill 
 united among each other; they wanted a master 
 who could by his laws and precepts soften their 
 fierce dispositions, and by his example induce 
 them to a love of religion and every milder vir- 
 tue. Under Numa, therefore, the people became 
 more submissive and social; but what gave them 
 still greater force, if considered in the light of 
 conquerors, was the spirit of religion which he 
 implanted amongthem. This continued to ope- 
 rate through a long succession of ages ; for what 
 could resist the greatest valour when impelled by 
 the most profound superstition ? 
 
 In the reign of Numa, therefore, we are to look 
 only for the pacific virtues, as his whole time 
 was spent in inspiring his subjects with a love of 
 piety, and a veneration for the gods. He built 
 many new temples> he instituted feasts ; and the 
 sanctity of his life gave him credit enough to per- 
 suade his people, that he had a particular corre- 
 spondence with the goddess Egeria. By her ad- 
 vice he built the temple of Janus, which was to 
 be shut in time of peace, and open in war; he 
 ordained vestal virgins, who being four in num- 
 ber, had very great privileges allowed them, such 
 as of being preceded by the fasces or ensigns of 
 royal power, and ofpardoning malefactors in case 
 of an accidental meeting : he instituted pontiffs, 
 and enrolled himself among the number; he
 
 29 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 brought up the orders of the Salian and Fecial 
 priesthood, the one to preserve the sacred shields 
 called ancilia, which he pretended had dropped 
 down from heaven, and which while remaining 
 in Rome, the city could never be taken ; the other 
 to judge of the equity of war, and to proclaim it 
 with great ceremony. 
 
 For the encouragement of agriculture, he divid- 
 ed those lands which Romulus had gained in war, 
 among the poorer part of the people ; he abated 
 the rigour of the laws, which his predecessor had 
 instituted with regard to parents and children, 
 making it unlawful for a father to sell his son af- 
 ter marriage, because he thought it unjust, that a 
 womaB who had married a freeman should be 
 constrained to live with a slave j he regulated also 
 the kalendar, and abolished the distinction be- 
 tween Romans and Sabines, by dividing the peo- 
 ple according to their several trades, and compel- 
 ling them to live together. Thus having lived to 
 the age of more than fourscore years, and having 
 reigned forty-three in profound peace, he died, 
 ordering his body to be buried in a stone coffin, 
 contrary to the custom of the times, and his books 
 of-ceremonies, which consisted of twelve in Latin 
 and as many in Greek, to be buried by his side, 
 in another. These were taken up about four 
 hundred years after ;'and because it was thought 
 impious to communicate the mysteries they con- 
 tained to the public, they were burnt by order 
 of the senate, whieh perhaps was willing to hide 
 the futility of the work by this extraordinary re- 
 verence for the contents.
 
 COMMONWEALl-a bt koiiE. 23 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 From the Death of Niima to the Death of Tulliis 
 HostiliuSf the third King of Rome, 
 
 Upon the death of Numa, the government U. C. 
 once more devolved upon the senate, and ^2. 
 continued with them till the people elected Tullas 
 Hostilius for their king, which choice hstd also 
 the concurrence of the other part of the consti- 
 tution. This monarch, who was grandson to a 
 noble Roman who had formerly signalized him- 
 self against the Sabines, was every way unlike his 
 predecessor, being entirely devoted to war, and 
 more fond of enterprise than even the founder 
 of the empire himself had been; so that he only 
 sought a pretext for leading his forces to the 
 field. 
 
 The Albans were the first people who gave 
 him an opportunity of indulging his favourite 
 inclinations. Two neighbouring states, both ea- 
 ger for war, and both in some measure subsisting 
 by plunder, can never want a pretext to colour 
 the violence of a first aggression. A few Roman 
 shepherds had, it seems, committed an inroad 
 upon the territories of Alba; a number of Alban 
 shepherds had made reprisals upon them ; am- 
 bassadors were sent from either state, complain- 
 ing of the injury; no redress was given, and a 
 formal war was declared on both sides, which
 
 24 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 neither however would bear the blame of having 
 first given rise to. There were, indeed, many rea- 
 sons for making these two states unwilling to 
 come to an open rupture; they were descended 
 from the same original, and the ties of consangui- 
 nity still held many of them united. There were 
 also some neighbouring states, enemies to both, 
 that only sought an opportunity of falling upon 
 either. It was with these dispositions, that after 
 some warlike stratagems on either side, the Ro- 
 man and Alban forces met, about five miles from 
 Rome, prepared to decide the fate of their re- 
 spective kingdoms, for almost every battle in these 
 barbarous times was decisive. The two armies 
 were for some time drawn out in array, awaiting 
 the signal to begin, both chiding the length of 
 that dreadful suspense which kept them from 
 death or victory. But an unexpected proposal 
 from the Alban general put a stop to the onset; 
 for stepping in between both armies, he offered 
 the Romans thechoiceof deciding the dispute by 
 single combat ; adding, that the side whose cham- 
 pion was overcome, should submit to the con- 
 queror. A proposal like this suited the impetu- 
 ous temper of the Roman king, and was embraced 
 with joy by his subjects, each of which hoped, 
 that he himself should be chosen to fight the 
 cause of his country. Many valiant men offered 
 themselves, but could not be accepted to the ex- 
 clusion of others, till at last, in this incertitude of 
 choice, chance suggested a remedy. There were 
 at that time three twin brothers in each army.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 25 
 
 those of the Romans were called Horatii, and 
 those of the Albans Curiatii, all six remarkable 
 for their courage, strength, and activity; and to 
 these it was resolved to commit the management 
 of the combat. When the previous ceremony 
 of oaths and protestations, binding the army of 
 the vanquished party to submit to that of the 
 victorious, were over, the combatants were led 
 forth amidst the encouragements, the prayers, 
 find the shouts of their country. They were 
 warned of the greatness of the cause ; they were 
 reminded of their former achievements ; they 
 were admonished, that their fathers, their coun- 
 trymen, and gods, were spectators of their beha- 
 viour. At length, warmed with the importance 
 of the trial, the championsj on each side met in 
 combat together; and, totally regardless of his 
 own safety, each only sought the destruction of 
 his opponent. The spectators, in horrid silence, 
 trembled at every blow, and wished to share the 
 danger, till at length fortune seemed to decide 
 the glory of the field. Victory, that had hitherto 
 been doubtful, appeared to declare against the 
 Romans; they beheld two of their champions 
 lying dead upon the plain, and the three Curiatii, 
 who were wounded, slowly endeavouring to pur- 
 sue the survivor, who seemed by flight to beg for 
 mercy. At this, the Alban army, unable to 
 suppress their joy, raised a loud acclamation, 
 while the Romans inwardly cursed and repined 
 at the cowardice of him whom they saw in cir-
 
 26 THE HISTORY OP THE 
 
 cumsfances of such baseness. Soon hou^ever they 
 began to alter their sentiments, when they per- 
 ceived that his flight was only pretended, in order 
 to separate his antagonists, whom he was unable 
 to oppose united ; for quickly after stopping his 
 course, and turning upon him who followed most 
 closely behind, he laid him dead at his feet; the 
 second brother, who came on to assist him who 
 was fallen, only shared the same fate ; and now 
 there remained but the last Curiatius to conquer, 
 ■who, fatigued and quite disabled with his wounds, 
 slowly came up to offer an easy victory. He 
 was killed, almost unresisting, while the con- 
 queror exclaiming, offered him as gi victim to the 
 superiority of the Romans, whom now the Alban 
 army consented to obey. 
 
 A victory so great, and attended with such 
 signal effects, deserved every honour that Rome 
 could bestow J but as if none of the virtues of 
 that age were to be without alloy, the very hand 
 that in the morning was exerted to save his coun- 
 try, was before night embrued in the blood of a 
 sister. For returning triumphant from the field, 
 it raised his indignation to behold her bathed in 
 tears, and lamenting the loss of her lover, one of 
 the Curiatii, to whom she was betrothed. But 
 when, upon seeing the vest which she had made 
 for her lover among the number of his spoils, 
 and beginning to upbraid him, it provoked him 
 beyond the power of sufferance, so that he slew 
 her in a rage. This action greatly displeased the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 27 
 
 senate, and drew on the condemnation of the 
 magistrates, but he was pardoned by making his 
 appeal to the people. 
 
 Things being in this posture, Hostilius re- 
 solved to avail himself of the late victory, by con- 
 firming the submission of Alba, and taking the 
 proper steps to quell the insolence of the inha- 
 bitants of Fidena and Veii, who had been making 
 preparations to shake off their subjection. His 
 designs were crowned with success in both. A 
 victory over the latter, restrained their attempts 
 for some time ; and as to the former, having con- 
 victed MetiusSuffetius, their general, of treason, 
 he caused him to be torn to pieces by horses ; and 
 still more, to give no ground for future revolts, 
 he utterly demolished the city of Alba, and trans- 
 planted the inhabitants to Rome, many of whom 
 he admitted into the senate. 
 
 After these successes, he turned his arms 
 against the Sabines, over whom- he gained a sig- 
 nal victory by means of his cavalry, whom the 
 enemy were incapable of withstanding. Thus 
 every new war, which depopulates other states, 
 seemed but to add strength and numbers to that 
 of Rome. It was perhaps from a conciousness, 
 that a state of war was the best for his people, 
 that the king entered into one with the Latins, 
 which however was managed but slowly on both 
 sides, no battle being fought, nor no town taken 
 except Medallia, which had formerly been 
 obliged to accept a Roman colony, and was now 
 permitted to be plundered, as an example to pre-
 
 28 THE HISTORT OF THE 
 
 vent the like defection in others. This war lasted 
 almost the rest of this reign, the latter part of 
 which was clouded with terrors from pretended 
 prodigies, while at the same time the king saw 
 his people afflicted with a real famine, which it 
 was not in his power to relieve. He died, after 
 a reign of thirty-two years, some say by light- 
 ning, with his whole family; others, with more 
 probability, by treason. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 From the Death of Tidltis Hostilius to the Death of 
 Ancus Martins, the fourth King of Rome. 
 
 u. c. After an interregnum, as in the former 
 11^' case, Ancus Martius, the grandson of 
 Numa, was elected king by the people, and the 
 choice afterwards was confirmed by the senate. 
 As this monarch was a lineal descendant from 
 Numa, so he seemed to make him the great ob- 
 ject of his imitation. Indeed he was by nature 
 incapable of making any great figure in war, as 
 he took his name of Ancus, from the crooked- 
 ness of one of his arms, which he was incapable 
 of extending ; however, he made up this defect 
 by the most diligent application to all the arts of 
 peace. He instituted the sacred ceremonies 
 which were to precede a declaration of war; he
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 29 
 
 endeavoured to persuade the people, that the 
 calamities which lately befel them and his pre- 
 decessor, were owing to a neglect of the gods ; 
 he took every occasion to advise his subjects to 
 return to the arts of agriculture, and lay aside 
 the less useful stratagems of war. 
 
 These institutions and precepts were consi- 
 dered by the neighbouring powers rather as marks 
 of cowardice than of wisdom. The Latins there- 
 fore began to make incursions upon his territo- 
 ries, and by their outrages, in Some measure, 
 forced him into a war. In this however he still 
 kept up to his character, and previously sent an 
 herald, who, in a peculiar dress, with a javeliin 
 headed with iron in his hand, went to the con- 
 fines of the enemy, solemnly proclaimed war, and 
 then flung his weapon into their territories, with 
 all the force he was able. The success of this 
 war was equal to its justice; Ancus conquered 
 the Latins, destroyed their cities, removed their 
 inhabitants to Rome, and increased its territories 
 by the addition of part of theirs. He quelled 
 also an insurrection of the Veii, the Fidenates, 
 and the Volscii, and over the Sabines he obtained 
 a second triumph. 
 
 But his victories over the enemy were by no 
 means comparable to his works at home, in rais- 
 ing temples, fortifying the city, making a prison 
 for malefactors, and building a sea-port at the 
 mouth of the Tiber, called Ostia, by which he 
 secured to his subjects the trade of that river, 
 and that of the salt-pits adjacent. Nor was he
 
 so THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 less careful in encouraging^strangers to come and 
 settle with him : the privileges which they ob- 
 tained, and the justice which was administered 
 hy him to all, brought numbers of the most cre- 
 ditable persons from different parts of Italy, who 
 not only increased the riches of his subjects, but 
 also tended still more to civilize them. Among 
 others of this quality was Lucumon, who after- 
 wards took the name of Lucius, and became his^ 
 successor in the kingdom, by the name of Lucius 
 Tarquinius. This stranger, who was a person of 
 great accomplishments as well as of large pos- 
 sessions, was very honourably treated by Ancus, 
 who probably was the more prejudiced in his fa- 
 vour, by an offer Tarquinius had made him of all 
 his fortune for public uses. He was accordingly 
 elected into the senate, and appointed guardian 
 to the two sons of Ancus, who, having enriched 
 his subjects and beautified the city, died, after 
 reigning twenty- four years. ^ 
 
 CHAPTER, VI. 
 
 From the Death of Ancus Martins to the Death of 
 Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth King of Rome. 
 
 u. c. Lucius Tarquinius Priscus, whose original 
 
 138. name, as has been already observed, was 
 
 Lucumon, and who was appointed guardian to
 
 COMMONWEAtTH OF ROME. 3l 
 
 the sons of the late king, took the surname of 
 Tarqninius, fronci the cityTarquinia, from whence 
 Jie last came. His father was a merchant of 
 Corinthj who acquired considerable wealth by 
 trade, and had settled in Italy upon account of 
 some troubles at home. His son Lucumon, who 
 inherited his fortune, married a woman of family 
 in the city of Tarquinia;^ and as his birth, pro- 
 fession, and country, were contemptible to the 
 nobles of the place, by his wife's persuasions he 
 came to settle at Rome, where merit only made 
 distinction. On his way thither, say the histo- 
 rians, as he approached the city gate, an eagle, 
 stooping from above, took off his hat, and flying 
 round his chariot for some time, with much noise, 
 put it on again. This, his wife Tanaquil, who 
 it seems was skilled in augury, interpreted as a 
 presage that he should one day wear the crown, 
 and perhaps it was this which first fired his am- 
 bition to pursue it: accordingly, being possessed 
 of great riches, all his actions and expences 
 seemed to aim at popularity. His kind address, 
 his frequent invitations, and his many benefits, 
 gained the esteem and admiration of a simple 
 people, who were yet unskilled in the arts of in- 
 trigue, and never considered the views with which 
 those favours were bestowed. 
 
 Ancus being dead, and the kingdom, as usual, 
 devolving upon the senate, Tarquin used all his 
 power and arts to set aside the children of the 
 late king, and to get himself elected in their 
 stead. In order to this, upon the day appointed
 
 52 tut HISTORY OF THE 
 
 for election, he contrived to have them sent out 
 of the city, and in a set speech to the people, in 
 vi^hich he urged his friendship for them, the for- 
 tune he had spent among them, and his know- 
 ledge of their government, he offered himself for 
 their king. As there was nothing in this ha- 
 rangue that could be contested, it had the de- 
 sired effect, and the people, with one consent, 
 elected him as their sovereign. 
 
 A kingdom thus got by intrigue, was notwith- 
 standing governed with equity. In the begin- 
 ning of his reign, in order to recompense his 
 friends, he added an hundred members more to 
 the senate, which made them in all three hund- 
 red. He likewise increased the number of ves- 
 tal virgins from four to seven, and laid the. first 
 foundations of an amphitheatre for the combats 
 of men and beasts, which were afterwards carried 
 to a horrid excess. The first shows, however, 
 were only horse-racing and boxing, in which, 
 men hired for that purpose from Etruria, fought 
 with gauntlets for a prize : how different these 
 from the combats of a later age, in which two 
 thousand gladiators were seen at once expiring 
 or dead upon the stage ! 
 
 His peaceful studies, however, were soon in- 
 terrupted by the inroads of his restless neigh- 
 bours, particularly the Latins, over whom he 
 triumphed, and whom he forced to beg a peace. 
 He then turned his arms against the Sabines, 
 who had once more risen against Rome, and had 
 passed over the river Tiber, upon a bridge, in
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. 55 
 
 order to plunder the Roman territories, and, if 
 possible, to sack the city. Tarquin, however, 
 soon came up to them on the banks of the river, 
 and gave directions to set fire to a large heap of 
 wood that lay by its side, and then to throw it 
 in ; the burning wood floating down the stream, 
 set fire to the enemies' bridge, and intercepted 
 their retreat. Nor did he permit them to take 
 measures for opposing him, but attacking them 
 with vigour, routed their army, so that many 
 who escaped the sword, were drowned in at- 
 tempting to cross over, while their bodies and 
 armour, floating down to Rome, brought news 
 of the victory, even before the messengers could 
 arrive. 
 
 Tarquin resolving not to give them time to re- 
 cover from this defeat, followed them into their 
 own country, where by another victory he oblig- 
 ed them to sue for peace, which however they 
 did not obtain but at the expence of a consider- 
 able part of their territories, and of Collatia, a 
 arge city, five miles east of Rome. These con- 
 quests were followed by several advantages over 
 the Latins, from whom he took many towns, 
 though without gaining any decisive victory, 
 
 Tarquin having thus forced his enemies into 
 submission, was resolved not to let his subjects 
 corrupt in indolence, but undertook several pub- 
 lic works for the convenience and embellishment 
 of the city. He surrounded it with stronger and 
 larger walls; he adorned the forum or market 
 place with porticoes ; he made many sewers to 
 
 VOL. J. D
 
 34 THE HISTORY OF THE ' 
 
 drain the city, some of which excite the admira- 
 tion of travellers to this very day. He improved 
 the amphitheatre which his predecessors had 
 begun, and laid the foundation of the capitol, 
 which however he did not live to finish. 
 
 In his time also, the augurs came into a great 
 increase of reputation, and he found it his inter- 
 est to promote the superstition of the people, as 
 this was in fact but to increase their obedience, 
 Tanaquil his wife was a great pretender to this 
 art ; but Accius Naevius was the most celebrate^ 
 adept of the kind that was ever known in Rome. 
 Upon a certain occasion Tarquin, being sensible 
 of his want of cavalry, had some intentions of 
 adding three new companies of knights to those 
 three that had been formerly instituted by 
 Romulus, but he was restrained by the augur, 
 who declared that it was forbidden by the gods 
 to alter any of the institutions of their founder. 
 The king, as the historians say, being in a vio- 
 lent passion, upon this resolved to try the augur's 
 skill, and asked him whether what he was then 
 pondering in his mind could be effected. Nasvius 
 having examined his auguries, boldly affirmed 
 that it might : why then, cries the king, with an 
 insulting smile, I had thoughts of cutting this 
 whetstone with a razor. Cut boldly, replied the 
 augur ; and the king cut it through accordingly. 
 Thenceforward nothing was undertaken in Rome 
 without consulting the augurs, and obtaining 
 their advice and approbation. No assembly was 
 dismissed, nor army levied; no battle fought,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 35 
 
 nor peace restored, without consulting the chirp- 
 ing and the flight of birds, which, as- it may be 
 supposed, the ancrurs made to speak whatev:er 
 language they pleased. 
 
 Tarquin was not content with a kingdom 
 without also the ensigns of royalty ; in imitation 
 of the Lydian kings, he assumed a crown of 
 gold, an ivory throne, a sceptre with an eagle 
 on the top, and robes of purple. It was perhaps 
 the splendour of these royalties that first raised 
 the envy of the late king^s sons, who had now 
 for above thirty-seven years quietly submitted to 
 his government. His design also of adopting 
 Servius Tullius, his son-in law, for his successor, 
 might have contributed to inflame their resent- 
 ment. Whatever was the cause of their tardy 
 vengeance, they resolved to destroy him, and at 
 last found means to effect their purpose, by hir- 
 ing two ruffians, who, upon pretence of justice, 
 demanding to speak with the king, struck him 
 dead in his palace with the blow of an axe. The 
 lictors, however, who waited upon the person 
 of the king, seized the murderers, who were at- 
 tempting to escape ; they were put to death, but 
 the sons of Ancus, who were the instigators, 
 found safety by flight. 
 
 Thus fell Lucius Tarquinius, surnamed Pris- 
 cus, to distinguish him from one of his succes- 
 sors of the same name, aged fifty-six years, of 
 which he had reigned thirty-eight. By having 
 been of Greek extraction, he in some manner 
 introduced part of the polite arts of that country 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 among his subjects, and though the Romans 
 were as yet very far from being civihzed, yet 
 they certainly were much more so than any of 
 the barbarous nations round them. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 From the Death of Tarqiiinius Prisons to the 
 Death of Servius Tullius, the sixth King of Rome, 
 
 U. C. The report of the murder of Tarquin 
 176. filled all his subjects with complaint and 
 indignation, while the citizens ran from every 
 quarter to the palace, to learn the truth of the 
 account, or to take vengeance on the assassins. 
 In this tumult, Tanaquil, widow of the late king, 
 considering the danger she must incur in case 
 the conspirators should succeed to the crown, 
 and desirous of having her son-in-law for his 
 successor, with great art dissembled her sorrow 
 and the king's death. She assured the people, 
 from one of the windows of the palace, that he 
 was not killed, but stunned by the blow ; that he 
 would shortly recover, and that in the mean time 
 he had deputed his power to Servius Tullius, his 
 son-in-law. Servius accordingly, as it had been 
 agreed upon between them, issued from the pa- 
 lace, adorned with the ensigns of royalty, and 
 preceded by his lictors, went to dispatch some
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 37 
 
 affairs that related to the public safety j still pre- 
 tending, that he took all his instructions from the 
 king. This scene of dissimulation continued for 
 some days, till he had made his party good 
 among the nobles, when the death of Tarquin 
 being publicly ascertained, Servius came to the 
 crown, solely at the senate's appointment, and 
 without attempting to gain the sutTrages of the 
 people. 
 
 Servius was the son of a bondwoman, who had 
 been taken at the sacking of a town belonging 
 to the Latins, and was born while his mother 
 was yet a slave. While yet an infant in his 
 cradle, a lambent flame is said to have played 
 round his head, which Tanaquil converted into 
 an omen of his future greatness. Impressed with 
 this opinion, she gave him the best education of 
 the times, and soon after raised him to the ho- 
 nour of being her son-in-law, and appointed 
 him, when the king grew old, to the manage- 
 ment of affairs both of a domestic and foreign 
 nature. His conduct in this station gained him 
 the good-will of the people, and what he valued 
 still more, the esteem of the senate. 
 
 Upon being acknowledged as king, the chief 
 object of his reign was to increase the power of 
 the senate, by depressing that of the people ; an 
 enterprise attended with extreme difficulty and 
 danger. To compass his intention, he was to 
 work by stratagem ; and, by seeming to study 
 their interest, bring about a measure that should 
 effectually destroy their authority. The Roman
 
 3S THE HI6T0RT OF THE 
 
 citizens had hitherto been taxed singly, and 
 each paid an tqual share to the necessities of the 
 state J this method of contributing to the puWic 
 exigencies, he pretended to consider as extremely 
 unjust, and proposed one of a more equitable kind, 
 by which every citizen should be only taxed ac- 
 cording to his fortune. The populace, who were 
 unable to see into his designs, received his pro- 
 jects with the loudest applause, and conferred 
 upon him a full power of settling the taxes as he 
 should think proper. To begin therefore, he 
 ordered an exact enumeration to be made of the 
 citizens of Rome, their children and servants, and 
 also a just valuation of their estates and substance. 
 Their numbers were found to amount to above 
 fourscore thousand men capable of bearing arms, 
 a vast increase since the time of Romulus. These 
 he divided into six classes, in the first of which 
 he comprised the body of the senate, the patri- 
 cians, and all those whose fortunes were above 
 eleven hundred thousand asses, or about three 
 hundred and sixty-six pounds of our money, at 
 that time no contemptible fortune in Rome- 
 This class he divided into fourscore centuries 
 or companies, one half of which, being com- 
 posed of the most aged and respectable persons, 
 were to remain at home for the defence of the 
 city ; the other half, composed of the youthful 
 and vigorous, were to follow the general, and 
 to march into the field. Their arms w£re, a 
 javelin, a spear, and a sword; their armour, a 
 helmet, a cuirass, and cuishes of brass. In this
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 39 
 
 class also was comprised the knights or horse- 
 men, which consisted of eighteen centuries, with 
 two more of the machinists, who followed the 
 camp. The second class, which consisted but 
 of twenty-two centuries or companies, was com- 
 posed of those who were worth above seventy- 
 live thousand asses j these were accoutred in the 
 same manner with the first class, only instead of 
 a shield they carried a target. The third class 
 consisted of twenty centuries, and was composed 
 of such as were worth fifty thousand asses. The 
 fourth class consisted of a similar number of 
 centuries, and was composed of such as were 
 worth twenty-five thousand asses. In the fifth 
 class were thirty centuries, and the qualification 
 was eleven thousand asses; these were chiefly 
 employed as slingers and irregulars in the army. 
 In the last class there was but one century, and 
 it seemed considered as of no advantage to the 
 state except by breeding children, that might 
 one day be useful. These paid no taxes, and 
 were dispensed with from going to war. In all 
 these classes, as in the first, a part, consisting of 
 the old men, were ordained to remain at home 
 for the defence of the city, and the more youth- 
 ful to fight abroad in their armies. Thus the 
 whole number of the citizens were divided into 
 an hundred and ninety-three centuries, each 
 commanded by a centurion, distinguished by 
 his valour and experience. 
 
 The citizens being in this manner ranked, 
 they were next to be taxed, but not as formerly.
 
 40 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 equally and one by one, but by centuries, each 
 century being obliged to supply an equal share to 
 the exigencies of government. By these means, 
 as the people were extremely numerous in the 
 centuries of the inferior classes, their quota of 
 the tax was proportionably small. It cannot be 
 doubted but this partial exemption from taxes 
 was greatly pleasing to the populace; but they 
 little considered that they were to purchase it at 
 the expence of their former power. For it was 
 but reasonable, that as the senators and the rich 
 furnished most to the necessities of the state, 
 they should also have a proportionable influence 
 in managing its concerns. Accordingly, as they 
 paid their taxes by centuries, he instituted that 
 they should give their votes in all public trans- 
 actions by centuries also. In former delibera- 
 tions each citizen gave his suffrage singly, and 
 the number of the poor always carried it against 
 the power of the rich ; but by the regulations of 
 Servius, the senate consisting of a greater num- 
 ber of centuries than all the other classes put to- 
 gether, now entirely out-weighed them in every 
 contention. The plebeians in this manner were 
 left but the shadow of authority, with which 
 however, for some ages, they seemed sufficient- 
 ly contented, until the increasing luxury of the 
 times taught one side the abuse of power, and the 
 other a pride that disdained subordination. 
 
 In order to ascertain the increase or decay of 
 his subjects and their fortunes, he instituted an- 
 other regulation, which he called a lustrum. By
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 41 
 
 this all the citizens were to assemble in the Cam- 
 pus Martius, in complete armour, and in their 
 respective classes, once in five years, and there 
 to give an exact account of their families and 
 fortune. He permitted slaves also to be set free 
 by their masters, and caused such as were thus 
 manumitted, to be distributed among the lower 
 classes of the city. 
 
 The king having enjoyed a long reign, thus 
 spent in settling the domestic policy of the state, 
 and also not unattentive to foreign concerns, for 
 he overthrew the Etrurians in many battles, and 
 triumphed over them three several times, con- 
 ceived reasonable hopes of concluding it with 
 tranquillity and ease. Servius had even thoughts 
 of laying down his power, and having formed the 
 kingdom into a republic, to retire into obscu- 
 rity ; but so generous a design was frustrated ere 
 it could be put in execution. 
 
 In the beginning of his reign, to secure his 
 throne by every precaution, he had married his 
 two daughters to the two grand-sons of Tarquin; 
 and as he knew that the women were of opposite 
 dispositions, as well as their intended husbands, 
 he resolved to cross their tempers, by giving each 
 to him of a contrary turn of temper; her that 
 was meek and gentle, to him that was bold and 
 furious ; her that was ungovernable and proud, 
 to him that was remarkable for a contrary cha- 
 racter: by this he supposed, that each would 
 correct the failings of the other, and that the 
 mixture would be productive only of concord*
 
 421 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The event however proved otherwise. Lucius, 
 his haughty son-in-law, soon grew displeased 
 with the meekness of his consort, and placed 
 his whole affections upon Tullia, his brother's 
 wife, who answered his passion with sympa- 
 thetic ardour. As their wishes were ungovern- 
 able, they soon resolved to break through every 
 restraint that offered to prevent their union ; both 
 undertook to murder their consorts, which they 
 effected, and were accordingly soon after mar- 
 ried together. A first crime ever produces a 
 second ; from the destruction of their consorts, 
 they proceeded to conspiring that of the king. 
 They began by raising factions against him, al- 
 leging his illegal title to the crown, and Lucius 
 by claiming it as his own, as heir to Tarquin, 
 But Tullius, by his prudence and great modera- 
 tion, defeated this design in the outset, coming 
 off with great honour both with the senate and 
 people, which brought Lucius to a feigned re- 
 pentance on his side, and produced a real recon- 
 ciliation on that of the king. Tullia, however, 
 still continuing to add flame to her husband's 
 ambition, which was already all on fire, he con- 
 tinued his intrigues among the senate, attaching 
 the old to him, by putting them in mind of their 
 obligations to his family; the young, by gifts for 
 the present, and promises of much greater things 
 upon his coming to the crown. At length, 
 when he found them ripe for seconding his 
 views, he entered the senate-house, adorned with 
 all the ensigns of royalty, and placing himself
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 43 
 
 upon the throne, began to harangue them upon 
 the obscurity of the king's birth, and the injus- 
 tice of his title. While he was yet speaking, 
 Servius entered, attended by a few followers, and 
 seeing his throne thus rudely invaded, offered to 
 push the usurper from his seat; but Tarquin 
 being in the vigour of youth, threw the old man 
 down the steps which led to the throne, and 
 some of his adherents being instructed for that 
 purpose, followed the king as he was feebly 
 attempting to get to the palace, and dispatched 
 him, throwing his body all mangled and bleed- 
 ing, as a public spectacle into the street. In the 
 mean time, Tullia, burning with impatience for 
 the event, was informed of what her husband had 
 done, and resolving to be among the first who 
 should salute him as monarch, ordered her cha- 
 riot to drive to the senate-house, where her savage 
 joy seemed to disgust every beholder. Upon 
 her return, when her charioteer approached the 
 place where the body of the old king, her father, 
 lay exposed and bloody, the man all amazed at 
 the inhuman spectacle, and not willing to tram- 
 ple upon it with his horses* feet, offered to turn 
 another way; but this only served to increase 
 the fierceness of her anger; she threw the foot- 
 stool at his head, and ordered him to drive over 
 it without deviation. 
 
 This was the end of Servius Tullius, a prince 
 of eminent justice and moderation, after an use- 
 ful and prosperous reign of forty-four years,. 
 Though the dominions of Rome had been but
 
 44 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 little increased by him, yet they acquired a 
 stability under his government, which far ex- 
 ceeded the transient splendour of an extensive but 
 hasty conquest. 
 
 CHAPTER viir. 
 
 From the Death of Servhis Tullius to the Banish- 
 ment of Tarquinius SuperbuSj the seventh and 
 last King of Rome. 
 
 u. c. Lucius Tarquinius, afterwards called Su- 
 220. perbus, ortheProud, having placed himself 
 upon the throne in consequence of his violent 
 attempt, was resolved to support his dignity 
 with the same violence with which it was acquir- 
 ed. Regardless of the senate or the people's ap- 
 probation, he seemed to claim the crown by an 
 hereditary right, and refused the late king's body 
 inhumation, under pretence of his being an 
 usurper. All the good part of mankind, how- 
 ever, looked upon his accession with detestation 
 and horror; and this act of inefficient cruelty 
 only served to confirm their hatred. Conscious 
 of this, he ordered all such as he suspected to 
 have been attached to Servius, to be put to death; 
 and fearing the natural consequences of his ty- 
 ranny, increased the guard round his person. 
 His chief policy seems to have been to keep
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROSIE. 45 
 
 the people always employed either in wars or 
 public works, by which means he diverted their 
 attention from his unlawful method of coming to 
 the crown. With this view, he first marched 
 against the Sabines, who refused to pay him 
 obedience, and soon reduced them to submis- 
 sion. He next began a war with the Volsci, 
 which continued for some ages after, and from 
 these he took Suessa Dometia, a considerable 
 town about twenty-six miles east of Rome, 
 The city of the Gabii gave him much more 
 trouble; for having attempted, with some loss, to 
 besiege it, he was obliged to direct his efforts by 
 stratagem, contrary to the usual practice of the 
 Romans. He caused his son Sextus to counter- 
 feit desertion, upon pretence of barbarous usage 
 from his father, and to seek refuge among the 
 inhabitants of the place. There, by artful com- 
 plaints and studied lamentations, he so prevailed 
 upon the pity of the people, as to be chosen their 
 governor, and soon after general of their army. 
 He at first, in every engagement, appeared suc- 
 cessful, till at length, finding himself entirely 
 possessed of the confidence of the state, he sent 
 a trusty messenger to his father for instructions. 
 Tarquin made no other answer, than taking the 
 messenger into the garden, and cutting down 
 before him the tallest poppies. Sextus readily 
 understood the meaning of this reply, and one 
 by one, found means of destroying or removing 
 the principal men of the city, still taking care to 
 confiscate their effects among the people. The
 
 46 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 charms of this dividend kept the giddy populace 
 blind to their approaching ruin, till they found 
 themselves at last without counsellors or head, 
 and in the end, fell under the power of Tarquin, 
 without even striking a blow. After this, he 
 made a league with the iEqui, and renewed that 
 with the Etrurians. 
 
 But while he was engaged in wars abroad, he 
 took care not to suffer the people to continue 
 in idleness at home. He undertook to build the 
 capitol, the foundation of whicli had been laid in 
 a former reign, and an extraordinary event con- 
 tributed to hasten the execution of his design. 
 A woman in strange attire, made her appearance 
 at Rome, and came to the king, offering to sell 
 nine books,, which she said were of her own com- 
 posing. Not knowing the abilities of the seller, 
 and that she was in fact one of the celebrated 
 sibyls, whose prophecies were never known to 
 fail, Tarquin refused to buy them. Upon this 
 she departed, and burning three of her books, 
 again demanded the same price for the six re- 
 maining; being despised as an impostor, she 
 again departed, and burning three more, return- 
 ed with those remaining, still asking the same as 
 at first. Tarquin, surprised at the inconsistency 
 of her behaviour, consulted the augurs to advise 
 him what to do. These much blamed him for 
 not buying the nine, and commanded him to buy 
 the three remaining, at whatsoever price she 
 should demand. The woman, says the historian, 
 after thus selling and delivering the three pro-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 47 
 
 phetic volumes, and advising him to have a 
 special attention to what they contained, vanish- 
 ed from before him, and was never after seen. 
 Upon this he chose proper persons to keep them, 
 who though but two at first, were afterwards in- 
 creased to fifteen, under the name of quindecim- 
 viri. They were put into a stone chest, and a 
 vault in the newly designed building was thought 
 the properest place to keep them in safety ; so 
 that the work went on with great vigour; and as 
 omens and prodigies were frequent in this igno- 
 rant age, in digging the foundations, a man*s 
 head, named Tolus, was found ; which, though 
 he was many years dead, still bled afresh, as if 
 he had been but newly slain. This gave the 
 building the name of capitol (caput Toli). It 
 was two hundred feet long, two hundred high, 
 and almost as many broad, dedicated to Jupiter 
 in chief, but containing two temples more, 
 under the same roof, dedicated to Juno and 
 Minerva. A structure so magnificent, was in 
 some measure an indication of the increase of 
 arts in Rome, not less than of the piety of the 
 people. 
 
 However, the time now began to approach, 
 in which the people were to be freed from a 
 tyrant, who, day after day, made new victims 
 among them. Having been now for four years 
 together employed in building the capitol, they 
 began at last to wish for something new to en- 
 gage them; wheretore Tarquin, to satisfy their 
 wishes, proclaimed war against the Rutuli, upon
 
 48 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 a frivolous pretence of their having entertained 
 some malefactors whom he had banished, and 
 invested their chief city Ardea, which lay about 
 sixteen miles from Rome. While the army was 
 encamped before this place, the king's son Sex- 
 tus, with Collatinus, a noble Roman, and some 
 others, sat in a tent drinking together: the dis- 
 course happening to turn upon the beauty and 
 virtue of their wives, each man praising his 
 own, Collatinus offered to decide the dispute, 
 by putting it to an immediate trial, whose wife 
 should be found possessed of the greatest beauty 
 and most sedulously employed, at that very hour. 
 Being heated with wine, the proposal was re- 
 lished by the whole company, and taking horse 
 without delay, they posted to Rome, though the 
 night was already pretty far advanced. Here 
 they found Lucretia, the wife of Collatinus, 
 not like the other women of the age, spending 
 the time in ease and luxury, but spinning in 
 the midst of her maids, and cheerfully portion- 
 ing out their tasks. Her modest beauty, and 
 the easy reception she gave her husband and 
 his friends, so charmed them all, that they una- 
 nimously gave her the preference; and Sextus 
 was so much inflamed, that nothing but enjoy- 
 ment could satisfy his passion. 
 
 He went therefore from the camp to visit her 
 privately a kw days after, and received the same 
 kind reception which he had met with before. 
 As his intentions were not suspected, Lucretia 
 aate with him at supper, and ordered a chamber
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 4& 
 
 to be got ready for him in the house. Midnight 
 was the time in which this ruffian thought it 
 safest to put his designs in execution. Having 
 found means to convey himself into her cham- 
 ber, he approached her bed-side with a drawn 
 sword, and rudely laying his hand upon her 
 bosom, threatened her with instant death if she 
 offered to resist his passion. Lucretia, affrighted 
 out of her sleep, and seeing death so near, was, 
 however, inexorable to his desire, till being told, 
 that if she would not yield, he would first kill 
 her, and then laying his own slave dead by her 
 side, he would report, that he had killed them 
 thus in the act of adultery. The terror of infamy 
 achieved what that of death could not obtain ; 
 she consented to his desire, and the next morn- 
 ing he returned to the camp, exulting in his 
 brutal victory. In the mean time, Lucretia, 
 detesting the light, and resolving not to pardon 
 herself for the crime of another, sent for her hus- 
 band Collatinus, and for Spurius her father, to 
 come to her, as an indelible disgrace had befallen 
 the family. These instantly obeyed the sum- 
 mons, bringing with them Valerius, a kinsman 
 of her father's, and Junius Brutus, a reputed 
 idiot, whose father Tarquin had murdered, and 
 who had accidentally met the messenger by the 
 way. Their arrival only served to increase Lu- 
 cretia's poignant anguish ; they found her in a 
 state of steadfast desperation, and vainly attempt- 
 ed to give her relief. " No," said she, " never shall 
 " I find any thing worth living for in this life, 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 *' after having lost my honour. You see, my 
 " Collatinus, a polluted wretch before you, one 
 "whose person has been the spoil of another, 
 '* but whose affections were never estranged from 
 " you. Sextus, under the pretended veil of 
 " friendship, has this night forced from me that 
 *' treasure, which death only can restore; but if 
 " you have the hearts of men, remember to 
 *' avenge my cause, and let posterity know, that 
 <* she who has lost her virtue, had only death for 
 " her best consolation." So saying, she drew a 
 poignard from beneath her robe, and instantly 
 plunging it in her bosom, expired without a 
 groan. The whole company remained for some 
 time fixed in sorrow, pity, and indignation ; Spu- 
 rius and Collatinus at length gave vent to their 
 grief in tears, but Brutus drawing the poignard 
 reeking from Lucretia's wound, and lifting it up 
 - towards heaven, *' Be witness, ye Gods," he 
 cried, " that from this moment 1 proclaim my- 
 " self the avenger of the chaste Lucretia's cause : 
 " from this moment I profess mj^self the enemy 
 •* of Tarquin, and his lustful house: from hence- 
 " forth shall this life, while life continues, be em- 
 " ployed in opposition to tyranny, and for the 
 " happiness and freedom of my much loved 
 " country." A new amazement seized the hearers, 
 to find him, whom they had heretofore considered 
 as an idiot, now appearing in his real character, 
 the friend of justice and of Rome. He told them 
 tears and lamentations were unmanly, when ven- 
 . geance called so loud; and delivering the poign-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 51 
 
 •rd to the rest, imposed the same oath upon 
 them which he himself had just taken. 
 
 Junius Brutus was the son of Marcus Junius, 
 a noble Roman, who was married to the daugh- 
 ter of Tarquinius Priscus, and for that reason, 
 through a motive of jealousy, was put to death 
 by Tarquin the Proud. Junius Brutus, the son, 
 had received an excellent education from his 
 father, and had from nature, strong sense, and 
 an inflexible attachment to virtue : but perceiv- 
 ing that Tarquin had privily murdered his father 
 and his eldest brother, he counterfeited himself a 
 fool, in order to escape the same danger, and 
 thence obtained the surname of Brutus. Tar- 
 quin thinking his folly real, despised the man; 
 and having possessed himself of his estate, kept 
 him as an idiot in his house, merely with a view 
 of making sport for Iris children. It happened 
 in a time of threatened danger, that Brutus was 
 sent with Tarquin's two sons, to consult the ora- 
 cle upon the methods expedient to avert the ca- 
 lamity. The sons were pleased with his com- 
 pany, and laughed to see him offer his staff at 
 the shrine of Apollo, which, however, was a 
 much more valuable present to the god than 
 theirs, as it had been made hollow, and then 
 filled with gold. The young men, after exe- 
 cuting their father's commands, next inquired 
 of the oracle, which of them should be king of 
 Home; to which it was answered, that he who 
 should first kiss his mother should gain the king- 
 dom. In consequence of this, they both re- 
 
 E S
 
 ^^ THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 solved to kiss their mother at the same time, and 
 thus reign together. Brutus, however, who dived 
 into the real meaning of the oracle, as soon as 
 they were arrived in Italy, pretended acci- 
 dentally to fall down, and kissing the earth, sa- 
 luted her, which he considered as the general 
 parent of all. From that time he conceived 
 hopes of being the deliverer of his country, and 
 chasing the tyrant Tarquin and his whole family 
 from Rome. 
 
 Brutus having now the fairest opportunity of 
 ridding his country of a tyrant, that had long 
 harassed it with impunity, procured with all 
 expedition the gates of the city to be shut, till 
 such time as the people would be assembled, and 
 a public decree for Tarquin's banishment should 
 be attempted. Accordingly, he caused Lucre- 
 tia*s dead body to be brought out to view, and 
 exposed in the public forum, while the citizens^ 
 who ran tumultuously from all quarters to see it, 
 were at first impressed with pity, which soon 
 after changed into rage and ungovernable fury: 
 this was the disposition which he had so often 
 longed for in vain, and now therefore inflaming 
 their ardour by a display of the horrid transac- 
 tion, and still more by the glorious hopes of fu- 
 ture freedom, he obtained a decree of the senate, 
 that Tarquin and his family should be for ever 
 banished from Rome, and that it should be capi- 
 tal for any to plead for, or attempt, his future re- 
 turn. Tarquin, in the mean time, having heard 
 ef these commotions at the army, flew with the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 53 
 
 utmost expedition to Rome, in hopes to quell 
 and punisii the delinquents; but finding the 
 gates shut, and the walls full of armed men, he 
 prepared to return, filled with indignation, to the 
 camp : but Brutus had taken care here also to 
 prevent him; for expeditiously getting to the army 
 by another road, he acquainted the soldiers with 
 what had been done in the city, how Lucretia 
 was abused and fallen, and how the senate and 
 people had espoused her quarrel. The same 
 sentiments of humanity which had impelled the 
 citizens, touched the army also. They agreed 
 to act with their friends at home; and when 
 Tarquin came back, they refused to admit him. 
 Thus this monarch, who had now reigned twenty- 
 five years, being expelled his kingdom, went to 
 take refuge with his family at Cifa, a little city 
 of Etruria. In the mean time the Roman army 
 made a truce with the enemy, and Brutus was 
 proclaimed deliverer of the people. 
 
 Thus ended with Tarquin the regal state of 
 Rome, after it had continued two hundred and 
 forty-five years, and still with a gradual, though 
 slow increase. Although, at the time of Tar- 
 quin*s expulsion, the territory of the Romans was 
 not above forty miles long and thirty broad, yet 
 their government was possessed of that vigour, 
 which bodies of a slow growth are generally 
 found to enjoy; nor were they at any time ma- 
 45ters of greater territory than they had forces to 
 keep in obedience. Few histories can show a 
 succession of kings replete with mor« virtue and
 
 3i THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 moderation, than those who first governed in 
 Rome : it was from their wise institutions, that 
 the people seemed to acquire all that courage, 
 that piety, and that patriotism, which afterwards 
 operated in conquering mankind. Their sub- 
 jects might have been possessed of all the rustic 
 fierceness of the times indeed, but it must have 
 been owing to the monarchs only, that their very 
 enemies reaped the benefit of their victories; it 
 must have been the generaPs virtue alone that 
 could protect those whom the soldier's valour had 
 subdued. The Grecian legislators had the Egyp- 
 tians to imitate, but the Romans were placed in 
 the midst of nations far more barbarous than 
 themselves, and all the wisdom of their monarchs 
 was chiefly of their own formation. Hitherto, 
 however, we only see the genius of the nation 
 making faint struggles to get free from her native 
 ferocity, obstructed by custom at home and bar- 
 barous example abroad; yet still, upon particu^ 
 lar occasions, exerting a nobleness of mind, still 
 aiming at imagined virtue, and majestic even in 
 infancy.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. §5 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 From the Banishment of Tarqidn to the Appoint^ 
 ment of the first Dictator. 
 
 The regal power being overthrown, a form u. c. 
 of government, nominally republican, was ^45> 
 substituted in its room. The senate, however, r-e- 
 served by far the greatest share of the authority 
 to themselves, and decorated their own body witli 
 all the spoils of deposed monarchy. The centu- 
 ries of the people chose from among the senators, 
 instead of a king, two annual magistrates, whom 
 tbey called Consuls, with power equal to that of 
 the regal, and with the same privileges, and the 
 same ensigns of authority. Though the liberty 
 of the people was but very little increased by this 
 ijustitution, yet to it Rome afterwards, in a great 
 measure, owed its unequalled grandeur. In the 
 life of a king, there are many periods of indolence 
 and of passion, that serve to divert him from the 
 public good 5 but in a commonwealth, governed 
 by magistrates annually chosen, each has no 
 time to lose, and to attain his ambition, all his 
 exertions must be within the year. Flenceitis, 
 that those magistrates were ever persuaded to 
 some new war, and pointing out fresh enemies 
 every day. The people, thus kept in continual 
 alarms, attained a more perfect knowledge of the 
 military arts, and were better enabled to adopt
 
 56 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the improvements of the various nations they 
 were led to engage. 
 
 Brutus, the deHverer of his country, and Col- n 
 latinus, the husband of Lucretia, were chosen 
 first consuls in Rome. They immediately re- 
 vived the lavvs for assembling the people, which 
 had been discontinued during the late tyrant's 
 reign ; but that their newly acquired liberty 
 should be prevented from degenerating into li- 
 centiousness, several officers relative to the priest- 
 hood were appointed, and new sacrifices or- 
 dained. 
 
 This new republic however, which seemed 
 so grateful to the people, had like to have been 
 destroyed in its very commencement. A party 
 was formed in Rome in favour of Tarquin. Some 
 young men of the principal families of the state, 
 who had been educated about the king, and had 
 shared in all the luxuries and pleasures of the 
 court, undertook to re-establish monarchy. They 
 were disgusted with the gloomy austerity of a 
 republican form of government, in which the 
 laws, inflexible and severe, made no distinctions 
 of birth or fortune. This party secretly in- 
 creased every day, and what may create our 
 surprise, the sons of Brutus himself, and the 
 Aquilii, the nephews of Collatinus, were among 
 the number. Tarquin, who was informed of 
 these intrigues in his favour, was resolved to ad- 
 vance them by every art in his power, and ac- 
 cordingly sent ambassadors iVom Etruriato Rome, 
 under a pretence of reclaiming the crown, and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 5? 
 
 demanding the effects which he had left behind 
 him, but, in reality, with a design to give spirit 
 to his faction, and to draw over to it as many as 
 he could. They accordingly went on with suc- 
 cess, holding their private meetings at the house 
 of one of the conspirators; and already the resto- 
 ration of the king, and the death of the consuls, 
 was resolved upon. However, their treason could 
 not be long concealed ; a slave, who had acci- 
 dentally hid himself in the room where the con- 
 spirators used to assemble, overheard their con- 
 versation, and laid open the whole design to the 
 consuls, who gave orders to have the conspira- 
 tors secured and brought before them, among 
 whom were the sons of Brutus. Few situations 
 could have been more terribly affecting than this 
 of a father, placed as a judge upon the life and 
 death of his own children j impelled by justice 
 to condemn, and by nature to spare them. The 
 young men accused, pleaded nothing for them- 
 selves, but with conscious guilt awaited their 
 sentence in silence and agony. The other judges 
 who were present, felt all the pangs of nature ; 
 Collatinus wept, and Valerius could not repress 
 the sentiments of pity. Brutus alone seemed 
 to have lost all the softness of humanity, and 
 with a: stern countenance, and a tone of voice 
 that marked his gloomy resolution, demanded of 
 his sons, if they could make any defence to the 
 crimes with which they had been charged. This 
 demand he made three several times, and having: 
 received no answer, he at length turned himself
 
 5S THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to the executioner : *' Now," cried he, " it is your 
 " part to perform the rest;" thus saying, he again 
 resumed his seat, with an air of determined ma- 
 jesty; nor could all the sentiments of paternal 
 pity, nor all the imploring looks of the people, 
 nor yet the complaints of the young men, who 
 were preparing for execution, alter the tenour of 
 his resolution. The executioners having strip- 
 ped them naked, and then whipped them with 
 rods, presently after beheaded them; Brutus all 
 the time beholding the cruel spectacle with a 
 steady look and unaltered countenance, while 
 the multitude gazed on with all the sensations of 
 pity, terror, and admiration. 
 
 The constancy of Brutus, during the execution 
 of his two sons, served greatly to increase his 
 authority in Rome ; but the lenity of his col- 
 league Collatinus, was considered in a very dif- 
 ferent light : his having attempted to save the 
 Aquilii, his nephews, rendered him suspected by 
 the citizens ; he was accordingly deposed from 
 the consulship, and banished Rome; and Vale- 
 rius, afterwards surnamed Publicola, from his re- 
 gard to the people, was elected consul in his room. 
 All Tarquin's hopes of an insurrection in the 
 city in his favour being thus overthrown, he was 
 now resolved to force himself upon his former 
 throne by foreign assistance, and to that end pre- 
 vailed upon the Veians to assist him, and with a 
 considerable army advanced towards Rome, 
 u. c. The consuls were not remiss in prepara- 
 246, tions to oppose him, Valerius command-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 59 
 
 ing the foot, and Brutus being appointed to head 
 the cavalry, went out to meet him on the Roman 
 borders. Aruns, the son of Tarquin, who com- 
 nianded the cavalry for hjs father, seeing Brutus 
 at a distance, was resolved,by one great attempt, 
 to decide the fate of the day, before the engaging 
 of the armies; wherefore spurring on his horse, he 
 made toward him with ungovernable fury. Bru- 
 tus, who perceived his approach, singled out 
 from the ranks to meet him, and both met with 
 such rage, that eager only to assail, and thought- 
 less of defending, they both fell dead upon the 
 field together. A bloody battle ensued, with 
 equal slaughter on both sides ; but the Romans 
 remaining in possession of the field of battle, 
 claimed the victory, in consequence of which 
 Valerius returned in triumph to Rome. 
 
 Brutus being thus removed without having 
 completed his year, Valerius continued for some 
 time to enjoy the dignity without a colleague, 
 which excited the jealousies of the people, who 
 were apprehensive that he had thoughts of as- 
 piring to the crown. A palace which he had 
 built with some magnificence, upon an eminence, 
 augmented these suspicions, and it was reported 
 that he had intentions of converting it into a 
 fortress, in order to awe the city. Valerius, how- 
 ever, soon quieted their fears, by ordering his 
 palace to be pulled down, and to show the recti- 
 tude of his intentions, made several laws abridg- 
 ing the power of the senate, and extending that 
 of the people. By one, he allowed an appeal
 
 6<i THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 from the consuls to the people ; by another, he 
 made it death for any man to assume the office 
 of magistrate without the people's consent; a 
 third gave power to any man to kill the person, 
 unheard, who affected the supreme power, if he 
 could demonstrate the crime. He also appointed 
 questors, or treasurers, who were to have the 
 management of the government's money, and 
 the care of accommodating ambassadors. Still 
 more to ingratiate himself with the public, he 
 ordered the rods which the lictors carried, to be 
 separated from the axes, intimating thereby, that 
 the power of capitally punishing lay no longer 
 in the consuls, but the people. Having thus 
 satisfied their scruples, he chose Lucretius, the 
 father of Lucretia, for his colleague in the con- 
 sulship. Dying a short time after, he was suc- 
 ceeded by Horatius, and the time of annual 
 election coming soon after, Horatius was chosen 
 a second time, and with him Lucretius, who 
 numbered the people. They were found to 
 amount to a hundred and thirty thousand, be- 
 sides widows and orphans. 
 
 ' In the mean time, Tarquin, no way intimi- 
 dated by his misfortunes, still formed alliances to 
 assist him in regaining the crown, and prevailed 
 upon Porsenna, one of the kings of Etruria, to 
 espouse his cause, and in person undertake his 
 quarrel. This prince, equally noted for courage 
 and conduct, marched directly to Rome with a 
 numerous army, and laid siege to the city, while 
 the terror of his name and his arms filled all ranks
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 61 
 
 of people with dismay. The senate, in this 
 exigence, did all that prudence could suggest, 
 both to quiet the fears, and satisfy the wants, of 
 the people. They ordered, that the populace 
 should pay no taxes to the state during the con- 
 tinuance of war, alleging, that they did enough 
 in educating children to defend it. Still more, 
 they purchased corn over various parts of Cam- 
 pania, and had it brought to Rome, to be distri- 
 buted at a low price to the people. These indul- 
 gences linked the orders of the state so firmly 
 together, that every citizen seemed resolved to 
 defend his country to the last, and save Rome, 
 or expire in its ruins. The siege, however, was 
 carried on with vigour : a furious attack was 
 made upon the place : the two consuls opposed 
 in vain, and were carried off wounded from the 
 field; while the Romans flying in great conster- 
 nation, were pursued by the enemy to the bridge, 
 over which both victors and vanquished were 
 about to enter the city in the confusion. All 
 now appeared lost and over, when Horatius 
 Codes, who had been placed there as sentinel 
 to defend it, opposed himself to the torrent of 
 the enemy, and assisted only by two more, for 
 some time sustained the whole fury of the assault, 
 till the bridge was broken down behind him -, 
 when plunging with his arms into the torrent of 
 the Tiber, he swam back victorious to his fellow 
 soldiers. 
 
 Still, however, Porsenna v^as determined upon 
 taking the city; and though five hundred of his
 
 62 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 men were slain in a sally of the Romans, he re- 
 duced it to the greatest straits, and turning the 
 siege into a blockade, resolved to take it by fa- 
 mine. The distress of the besieged soon began 
 to be insufferable, and all things seemed to 
 threaten a speedy surrender, when another act 
 of fierce bravery, still superior to that which had 
 saved the city before, again procured its safety 
 and freedom. 
 
 Mutius, a youth of undaunted bravery, was 
 resolved to rid his country of an enemy that so 
 sorely continued to oppress it ; and for this pur- 
 pose, disguised in the habit of an Etrurian pea- 
 sant, entered the camp of the enemy, resolved to 
 die or to kill the king. With this resolution he 
 made up to the place where Porsenna was pay- 
 ing his troops, with a secretary by his side; but 
 mistaking the latter for the king, he stabbed him 
 to the heart, and was immediately apprehended, 
 and brought back to the royal presence. Upon 
 Porsenna*s demanding who he was, and the cause 
 of so heinous an action, Mutius, without reserve, 
 informed him of his country and his design, and 
 at the same time thrusting his right hand into a 
 fire that burnt upon an altar before him, " You 
 '* see,^* cried he, " how little I regard the severest 
 ** punishment your cruelty can inflict upon me. 
 " A Roman knows not only how to act, but to 
 " suifer : I am not the only person you have to 
 *^ fear, three hundred of the' Roman youth, like 
 " me, have conspired your destruction, there- 
 " fore prepare for their attempts." Porsenna,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 63 
 
 amazed at so much intrepidity, had too noble a 
 mind not to acknowledge merit though found in 
 an enemy j he therefore ordered him to be safely 
 conducted back to Rome, and offered the be- 
 sieged conditions of peace. These were readily 
 accepted on their side, being neither hard nor 
 disgraceful, except that twenty hostages were 
 demanded, ten young men, and as many virgins, 
 of the best families in Rome. But even in this 
 instance also, as if the gentler sex were resolved 
 to be sharers in the desperate valour of the times, 
 Clelia, one of the hostages, escaping from her 
 guards, and pointing out the way to the rest of 
 her female companions, swam over the Tiber on 
 horseback, amidst showers of darts from the 
 enemy, and presented herself to the consul. This 
 magistrate however, fearing the consequences of 
 detaining her, had her sent back ; upon which, 
 Porsenna, not to be outdone in generosity, not 
 only gave her liberty, but permitted her to choose 
 such of the hostages, of the opposite sex, as she 
 should think fit to attend her. On her part, she, 
 with all the modesty of a Roman virgin, chose 
 only such as were under fourteen, alleging, that 
 their tender age was least capable of sustaining 
 the rigours of slavery. 
 
 Little remarkable happened after this for about 
 five years, if we except two or three victories 
 obtained over the Sabines, who were obliged to 
 purchase a peace, and over whom the consuls 
 obtained two triumphs, and the first ovation that 
 had been seen in Rome, which differed from a
 
 64 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 triumph in these respects, that in an ovation, the 
 general entered the city on foot, and not, as irl 
 the other case, in a chariot; that he was met only 
 by the knights and patricians, and not by the 
 senators in their robes ; that his dress was less 
 magnificent, and that his crown, instead of being 
 of laurel, was made only of myrtle. Posthumius, 
 who overcame the Sabines, was the first who was 
 decreed this lesser kind of triumph, because his 
 success was not obtained but at the expence of a 
 former defeat. Some other victories followed, but 
 we will not dilate upon these small advantages, 
 which, though they contributed to extend the 
 empire, are at present attended neither with cu- 
 riosity nor instruction. 
 
 Tarquin, though often disappointed, was still 
 unsubdued and unshaken. By means of his son- 
 in-law Manilius, he stirred up the Latins to es- 
 pouse his interest, and took the most convenient 
 opportunity, when the plebeians and senators 
 were divided amongst each other, to make head 
 against Rome. After having united twenty-four 
 towns in the confederacy abroad, he by large 
 bribes, found means to win over a very powerful 
 party of the poorer sort of citizens from their 
 new government, who also had many real causes 
 of discontent to disgust them, and to which they 
 soon after gave vent. 
 U. C. The Romans, under their kings, had 
 255. only two ways of subsisting; by agricul- 
 ture and by plunder: they lived either by la- 
 bouring their own lands, or by reaping the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 63 
 
 harvests which had been sown by their enemies. 
 Soon, however, after the extinction of royalty, 
 the senators and patricians, who were in effect 
 sovereigns of the country, appropriated to them- 
 selves the greatest part of the lands which were 
 the rights of conquest, and insensibly extended 
 their own possessions at the expence of the 
 public. In vain the soldiers fought to enlarge 
 the limits of the dominions of Rome; the great 
 came in and shared the fruit of their labour, 
 though they had no participation in the danger. 
 The poverty of the soldier, by these means, 
 obliged him to borrow money upon usury, and 
 as that was exorbitant, it only served to increase 
 his wretchedness. The laws also of Rome per- 
 mitted the creditor to seize the person of the in- 
 solvent debtor, and to employ him as a slave, 
 till the debt was paid. This complication of 
 misery soon excited the murmurs of the poor, 
 till from entreaties to their masters, they pro- 
 ceeded to menaces. The attempt of Tarquin to 
 regain the crown, seemed to them a favourable 
 conjuncture to regain those rights of which 
 they had been insensibly deprived. When the 
 consuls, therefore, came to levy men in order to 
 oppose him, to their great amazement, all the 
 poor, and all who were loaded with debt> refused 
 to enlist, declaring that those who enjoyed the 
 advantages of peace, might undergo the fatigues 
 of war, but that for their part, they were wea- 
 ried with exposing their lives for nothing, or 
 for what was still worse, for masters who under- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 $0^ TUE BklSTGBY OP THB 
 
 valiUedj theij? labours^ and only ?ioted upon their 
 distress. Tiiey acknowledged bo city nor count- 
 try> they satd^ which would, not give them pro- 
 tection ; and by leaving Rome, tliey only left be- 
 hind theni their miseries, their oppressors,, and 
 their debts. They therefore insisted, that their 
 debts should be cancelled by a decree of the 
 senate, as the only means of inducing them to 
 the field. At first the senate endeavoured to 
 appease the populace by gentle methods, but- 
 finding these unsuccessfiil, they entered into a 
 serious consideration upon so important an affair. 
 There were some for a free remission of all debts> 
 as the safest and securest method at that junc- 
 ture. Others urged; the dangerous consequences 
 of this condescension,, advising that only such 
 should be enlisted, as thought fit to give in their 
 names, and. that the rest should, be treated with 
 contempt. At length they came to a resolution 
 to put off tlie impending evil by delay, and to 
 publish an order, that no debtor should be mo- 
 lested during the continuance of the war. The 
 people, however, to whom the senate offered this 
 suspension as a favour, refused it with acrimony 
 and contempt. They knew that this was only 
 putting off that grievance, which would soon. 
 fciU upon them with increased severity; they 
 knew that the approach of the enemy had ex- 
 torted from the senate what they would resume 
 when their terrors should be over, and there- 
 fore they still persisted in their demands. The 
 number of malcontents increased every hour,^
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. Bf 
 
 and many of the people who were neither poor 
 nor involved in debt, entered into and shared 
 their griefs, either from a consciousness of the 
 rectitude of their demands, or from the natural 
 dislike which all men have to their superiors. 
 In this exigence, therefore, the senate, who saw 
 the commonwealth upon the brink of ruin, had 
 recourse to an expedient, which, though success- 
 ful for the present, in a course of ages was fatal to 
 the republic of Rome. The consuls finding their 
 authority insufficient, offered the people to elect 
 a temporary magistrate, who should have abso- 
 lute power, not only over all ranks of state, but 
 even ov6r the laws themselves. To this the ple- 
 beians, who held the senate in abhorrence, readily 
 consented, willing to give Up their own power, 
 for the sake of abridging that of their superiors. 
 In consequence of this, Largius was created the 
 first Dictator of Rome, for so was this high 
 office called, being nominated to it by his col- 
 league in the consulship. Thus the people, who 
 could not bear* to hear the name of king even 
 mentioned, readily submitted to a magistrate 
 possessed Of much greater power; so much do 
 the names of things mislead us, and so little is 
 any form of government irksome to people when 
 it coincides with their prejudices. This was the 
 first intermission of the consular power, about 
 two years after it had been established. 
 
 F S
 
 68 THE HISTORY OF TllR 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 From the Creation of the first Dictator j to the 
 Election of the Tribunes of the People, 
 
 U. C. Largius being now created dictator, 
 255. entered upon his office surrounded with 
 hislictors and all the ensigns of ancient royalty; 
 and seated upon a throne in the midst of the peo- 
 ple, ordered the levies to be made, in the manner 
 of the kings of Rome. The populace looked with 
 terror upon a magistrate whom they had in- 
 vested with uncontrollable power, and peace- 
 ably went each to range himself under his respec- 
 tive standard. The Latins being informed of this 
 change in the government of the city, began 
 to lose all the expectations which they had 
 conceived from its divisions; they accordingly 
 thought proper to listen to an accommodation, 
 which was proposed on the side of Rome, and a 
 truce was agreed upon between them for a year. 
 Largius, who had been sent to oppose the enemy, 
 returned v/ith his army to Rome, and before his 
 six months were out (the time limited for this of- 
 fice), he laid down the dictatorship, with the re- 
 putation of having exercised it with blameless 
 lenity. 
 
 It seems, however, that the year ensuing there 
 was occasion for another dictator, as we find 
 Posthumius invested with that office, and leading 
 out the Romans to prosecute the war with the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OP ROME. 69 
 
 XiEtins, upon expiration of the truce between 
 them. We are told, that coming up with them 
 near the lake Regillas, he gave them a complete 
 overthrow, though they were almost double his 
 number, and that scarce a fourth of their army 
 escaped alive from the field. It would be unim- 
 proving, however, and tedious to give the parti- 
 culars of the engagements of this warlike people, 
 in the infancy of their empire, while yet they 
 seem but the tumultuary meetings of brave but 
 obstinate men, whose valour alone, rather than 
 conduct, decided the fortune of the day. In this 
 battle, we are particularly told, that the dictator 
 cast one of the ensigns among the enemy, to 
 incite his men to a bold attempt for the recovery ; 
 we are told also, that the bridles were ordered 
 to be taken off the horses, that they might charge 
 with greater fury. Generals who could give such 
 directions might have been bold men, but very- 
 bad commanders. Nevertheless, they fought 
 against an enemy more ignorant than themselves ; 
 so that the Latins, acknowledging their supe- 
 riority, implored a truce once more, and the dic- 
 tator, after a triumph, laid down his authority. 
 
 The soldiers having now once more returned 
 from the field in triumph, had some reason to 
 expect a remission of their debts, and to enjoy 
 that safety for themselves which they had pro- 
 cured for the public. However, contrary to 
 their hopes, the courts of justice were opened 
 against them, and the prosecution of creditors 
 revived with more than former acrimony. This
 
 7j9 the history of TijiE 
 
 J^jegaa to excite fresh murmurs ; an<J tlxe senate, 
 >vho were sensible of them, in order to be pre- 
 pared, chose Appius Claudius, a man of austere 
 manners, a strict observer of the laws, and of 
 Uf^shaken intrepidity, for one of the consuls the 
 year ensuing: but, at the same time, to temper 
 his severity, they gave him for a colleague, Se^- 
 yiliu§, a man of a humane and geptle disposi- 
 tion^ and as much loved by the populace ^s 
 Appius was hateful to them. When the pomr 
 plaints of the people therefore came to be deli^ 
 j::jerated upon, these two magistrates, as it mi^y 
 be supposed, were entirely of opposite opinions. 
 Seryjliu?, commiserating the distresses of the 
 poor, was for abolishing all debts, or at leasf; for 
 diminishipg the interest upon them* Appius, o^ 
 the other hand, with his natural severity^ insistr 
 P4 that the laws pf his ppfiptry should be invipr 
 lably observed : aqd that lightening the load froi^ 
 those who owed money, was but throwing it 
 upop those to whom it was due ; that it would 
 bp encpuraging thp extrayag^vpt ai^d thp idle, ^^ 
 Xkp expence of the indusf-ripps and the frugal ^ 
 and tha^ Qvery neyy complit^nce from the senate, 
 would but increase the insolent demands of the 
 people. 
 
 The pppulace being apprised of the different; 
 opinions of their consuls concerning their cpmr 
 plaints, loaded Servilius \yitli every mark of 
 gratitude, while they every where pursued Apr 
 pius with threats and imprepatiops. They npw, 
 tt^^yeforp, began to asspmhlp afresh, to hpld se-
 
 COMMOXM^EALTH OF HOME. 71 
 
 <;ret cabals by night, and to meditate some new 
 revolution ; when an unlooked-for spectacle of 
 distress roused all their passions, and at once 
 fanned their kindling resentment into flame. 
 
 A Roman soldier, who seemed in age, came 
 to take refuge in the midst of the people, loaded 
 with chains, yet showing in his air the marks 
 of better days : he was covered with rags, his 
 face was pale and wasted with famine, his beard, 
 which was long and neglected, and his hair in 
 wild disorder, rendered his appearance still more 
 ghastly. He was known, however, to have once 
 performed gallant services in the field ; he show- 
 ed the scars which he had received in battle, 
 and the marks of recent stripes which still con- 
 tinued bleeding. The compassion of the multi- 
 tude was excited at this spectacle, but much 
 more when he told them his story. Having 
 borne arms in the last war against the Sabines, 
 his little patrimony was not only neglected, but 
 the enemy had plundered his substance, and set 
 his house on fire. He was thus forced for sub- 
 sistence to contract debts, and then obliged to 
 sell his inheritance to discharge them; but a 
 part still remaining unpaid, his unfeeling creditor 
 had dragged him to prison, where he was not 
 only loaded with chains, but torn with the whips 
 of the executioner, who was ordered to torment 
 •him. This account, and his wounds which were 
 still fresh, produced an instantaneous uproaf 
 Among the people : they flew to take revenge not
 
 72 THE HISTORY Of THE 
 
 only on the delinquent, but on the general body 
 of their oppressors. Appius had th«3 fortune to 
 procure safety by flight. Serviiius, laying aside 
 the marks of consular power, threw himself into 
 the midst of the tumult, entreated, flattered, com- 
 manded them to patience : engaged to have their 
 wrongs redressed by the senate; promised that 
 he himself would warmly support their cause; 
 and in the mean time, to convince them of his 
 good intentions, made proclamation, that no ci- 
 tizen should be arrested for debt, until the senate 
 should issue further directions. 
 
 The remonstrances of Serviiius^ for this time, 
 served in some measure to appease their mur- 
 murs, and the senate was going to begin their 
 deliberations, when word was brought, that an 
 army of Volscians was marching directly to- 
 wards Rome. This was an event which the 
 people had wished with the most ardent expecta- 
 tion ; and they now resolved to let the nobles sec, 
 how little the power of the rich avails, when 
 unsupported by the strength of the multitude. 
 Accordingly, when the levy came to be made 
 for soldiers, they unanimously refused to enlist, 
 while those who had been imprisoned for debt, 
 showing their chains, asked with an insulting 
 smile, whether these were the weapons with 
 which they were to face the enemy. 
 
 Rome, in this state of anarchy within, and of 
 threatened invasion from without, was upon the 
 brink of ruin ; when Serviiius, who, as consul,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 7^ 
 
 was to command the army, once more renewed 
 his entreaties with the people, not to desert him 
 in this exigence. To soothe them still more, he 
 issued a new edict, that no citizen should be 
 imprisoned during the continuance of the war, 
 and assured them, that, upon their return, they 
 should have plenary redress. By these promises, 
 as well as by the atFection which the people had 
 to his person, he once more prevailed. The 
 citizens came in crowds to enrol themselves un- 
 der his command j he led them to meet the ene- 
 my, and gained a complete victory. But of 
 all those who showed their courage in the en- 
 gagement, the debtors and former malcontents 
 were the most conspicuous. Servilius, to recom- 
 pense their bravery, gave them the plunder of 
 the enemies' camp, without reserving, as was 
 usual, any part of it to the treasury; and this 
 perhaps was the cause which induced the senate, 
 upon his return, to refuse him the honours of a 
 triumph. • 
 
 No sooner were the terrors of the enemy re- 
 move^, but ^the former cruelties began afresh. 
 Appius, still fierce and uncomplying, again au- 
 thorized creditors to renew their rights, and 
 debtors were dragged to prison, and insulted as 
 before. In vain did they implore the assistance 
 of Servilius, who, gentle and wavering, deputed 
 too much of his power to Appius. In vain did 
 they claim the promises made them by the se- 
 nate; that bod}'-, deaf to their cries, saw debtors 
 pursued even into the Forum by their merci-
 
 74 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 kss masters, and prevented only by the mul- 
 titude ffoffi being hauled to prison. The ap- 
 proach of an enemy, still more numerous than 
 tli3t which had been lately conquered, retarded 
 the acrimony of their vengeance. The Sabines, 
 the Equi, and the Volscians, as if willing to 
 secopd the views of the people, again made a 
 fierce irruption, while the citizens refused to 
 touch a weapon, till their grievances were re- 
 moved, 
 
 Things being in this dangerous situation, the 
 senate were obliged to have recourse to the old 
 method of redress, by creating a dictator. Ap- 
 pius, who advised the measure, hoped that ]ie 
 himself should have been chosen; but the senate, 
 sensible that so much power in the hands of one 
 so violent in the use of that which he possessed, 
 would be dangerous, chose Marius Valerius, an 
 ancient senator, one mild, merciful, much loved 
 by the people, and descended from the great 
 deliverer, whose name he bore. Valerius, who 
 secretly inclined to the plebeian party, chose 
 Quintus, the brother of their great idol, Servi- 
 lius, for his master of the horse; and, assembling 
 the orders, assured them, that if they would 
 follow him freely, their grievances should not 
 only be redressed, but their fortunes advanced 
 by the spoils of the enemy. He in the mean 
 time freed them from any immediate prosecu- 
 tions from their creditors, and commanded them 
 to follow him to the field. There was some- 
 tbiog sd absolute in the office of a dictator, and
 
 }t !cv5is SO much considered by the people, thajt 
 they not only dreaded its resentflie.rjt, but seenieci 
 to think its promises binding. They therefore 
 enrolled themselves at his jorder, and marching 
 against the enemy, quickly reduced them tp 
 obedience; such lands as had been taken fronj 
 them being divided among the soldiers. 
 
 Upon his return, the dictator requested the ser 
 nate to perform what lie had so solemnly pledge4 
 his word to obtain; but Appius, still obstinate, 
 refused to comply, reproaching him with amearj 
 condescension to the multitude, and bringing 
 over the majority of the senate to his opinioii. 
 Valerius, therefore, finding he was unable to 
 contend with so powerful a body, laid down his 
 office, alleging that it was tin^e for an old man 
 of seventy, ^s he >vas, to think rather of ease 
 tjian opposition. 
 
 The people were now inflamed beyond all 
 bearing; they entered into private consultations, 
 and formed a pl^ii of separating themselves 
 from masters, whose protpises were as contemp- 
 tible, ^as their tyranny dreadful. The most vio^ 
 lent rneasures ^re to the multitude always the 
 inost pleasing, and sonie h^d even the boldness 
 to talk of killing sjich as were obnoxious. The 
 senate and the consuls, well knowing the effects 
 of their fpry when they should be disbanded, 
 resolved still to keep them in the field, under 
 pretence that the enemy was yet unsubdued, 
 and preparing for new invasions. In this exi- 
 gence the soldiers were at a loss how to act,*
 
 70 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the military oath which they had taken upon 
 listing, forbade their laying down their arms or 
 forsaking their standards, and yet their recent 
 injuries restrained them from taking the field. 
 They steered between both extremes ; they re- 
 solved to quit a city which gave them no shelter, 
 and to form a new establishment without its 
 limits. They therefore removed their ensigns, 
 changed their commanders, and under the con- 
 duct of a plebeian named Sicinius Bellutus, they 
 retired to a mountain, from thence called the 
 Mons Sacer, on the banks of the river Anio, 
 within about three miles from Rome. 
 
 Upon news of this defection, the city was fill- 
 ed with tumult and consternation: those who 
 wished well to the army made all the attempts 
 they could to scale the walls in order to join it, 
 for the gates were shut by the senate's direction. 
 The fathers who had sons among the mutineers, 
 reproached their degeneracy ; wives lamented the 
 absence of their husbands j and all apprehended 
 a civil war. The senate was not less agitated 
 than the rest: some were for violent measures, 
 and repelling force by force, others were of opi- 
 nion, that gentler arts were to be used, and that 
 even a victory over such enemies would be 
 worse than a defeat. At length, therefore, it 
 was resolved to send a messenger, entreating the 
 army to return home and declare their griev- 
 ances, promising at the same time an oblivion of 
 all that had passed. This message, which in 
 fact was too premature to be attended with any
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 77 
 
 effect, was treated by the army with disdain; so 
 that the senate were now to begin afresh to con- 
 sider of the proper steps to be taken, and 
 whether force or condescension was the wisest, 
 course to pursue. 
 Accordingly, after choosingnewconsu]s(though 
 not without difficulty, as none at first would 
 offer for the office), they entered upon the de* 
 liberation, with an earnestness equal to the im- 
 portance of the cause. Menenius Agrippa, one 
 of the wisest and best of the senators, was of 
 opinion, that the people were to be complied 
 with ; that the Roman dominions could neither 
 be extended nor preserved without them. The 
 late dictator Valerius seconded his opinion, with 
 a warmth unusual to one of his advanced age/ 
 He upbraided the senate with their duplicity, 
 and urged the necessity of letting the people 
 into a share of those advantages which the rich 
 seemed willing to engross. Appius on the other 
 hand, still adhering to his principles, declaimed 
 with great force against making the smallest 
 concessions to the multitude. He observed, 
 that if they granted to the people when ene- 
 mies, what they had refused them when friends, 
 it would be an argument of their fears and not 
 of their justice: that the young patricians and 
 their clients were still able to defend the city, 
 even though its ungrateful inhabitants should 
 think fit to desert it; that the multitude never 
 knows where to stop in its demands, and that 
 every concession would be only productive of
 
 fresh claims and louder importunities. The bod^y 
 of the senators, to whom chiefly the people wer^f^ 
 dfebtors, only wanted the speciousness of sucftf 
 arg'uments to cover their* avarice; those of thA' 
 younger sort also, who were flattered by the 
 orator, applaitdfed Ms speech With indeoerit zeal. 
 'I'he consuls, therefore, who, ilOtvi^it'hstandirigthis 
 show of a debate, saw the necessity there was of 
 cotttpljnng with the people, in order to prevent 
 stfch violent measitres as the s^iiatfe Were hast'^h*' 
 ittg into, for that day broke up' the assembly ; M' 
 the same tiitte intimating to the yOiiriger pai't of 
 tlie senators, that if they did not behaVe With 
 ittOite moderation for the fittui^e, aUavv should be 
 jireferred, preventing all, under' a {jert^n ag^»' 
 from being admitt^ed into the senate for th^ fut■l^re^ 
 This threat did" not Want its effect attheir n^jit^ 
 liieetin^, Wher^, notwithstanding' the steadfast 
 opposition of Appiusj and the terrible blow that 
 Was about to be given to the forturles of many of 
 the members, it was resolved to enti^r ititO a treaty 
 With the people, and to make theni such offers 
 as siiould iridbce them to return. Ten com-' 
 jliissionefS were accordingly deputed, at-the head- 
 of whom Were Largius and Valerius, who had 
 been dictators, and Menenius Agrippa, equally 
 ibved'by the senate and the people. The dignii.' 
 ty diid the popularity of these athbassadors pro- 
 cured them a very respectable reception among 
 the soldiers, and a long conference began between 
 therti; Largius atid Valerius employed all their 
 ©ratory oil the otte hatidi while Sicinius and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. 79 
 
 Lucius Junius, who were the spokesmen of the 
 soldiery, aggravated their distresses, with all 
 that male-eloquence wliiGh is the child of na- 
 ture. The conference had now continued for a 
 long time, when Menenius Agrippa> who ha<l 
 been originally a plebeian himself, a shrewd 
 man, and who consequently knew what kind of 
 eloquence was most likely to please the people^ 
 addressed them with that celebrated fable, which 
 is so finely told us by Livy. " In times of oldv 
 " when every part of the body could think for 
 " itself, and each had a separate will of its own^ 
 " they all, with common consent, resolved to re^ 
 " volt against the belly j they knew no reason^ 
 " they said, why they should toil from morning 
 "'till night in its sei-vice, while the belly in the 
 " mean time lay at its ease in the midst of them 
 " all, and indolently grew fat upon their labours: 
 " accordingly, one and all, they agreed to de- 
 " fend it no more. The feet vowed they would 
 " carry it no longer, the hands vowed they would 
 " feed it no longer, and the teeth averred they 
 " would not chew a morsel of meat, though it 
 " were placed between them. Thus resolved, 
 " they all for some time showed their spirit, and 
 " kept their word ; but soon they found that 
 " instead of mortifying the belly by these means, 
 " they only undid themselves; they languished 
 " for a while, and perceived when too late, that 
 " it was owing to the belly that they had strength* 
 " to work or courage to mutiny." 
 This fable, the application of which is obvious.
 
 80 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had an instantaneous effect upon the people^ 
 Theyunanimously cried out, that Agrippa should 
 lead them back to Rome, and were making pre- 
 parations to follow him, when Junius Brutus, 
 before-mentioned, withheld them, alleging, that 
 though they were gratefully to acknowledge the 
 kind offers of the senate, yet they had no safe- 
 guard for the future against their resentment; 
 that therefore it was necessary for the security 
 of the people, to have certain officers created 
 annually from 'among themselves, who should 
 have power to give such of them as should be 
 injured, redress, and plead the cause of the com- 
 munity. 
 
 The people, who are ever of opinion with the 
 last speaker, highly applauded this proposal, 
 which however the commissioners had not power 
 to comply with : they therefore sent to Rome to 
 take the instructions of the senate; who, worried 
 with divisions among themselves, and harassed 
 by complaints from without, were resolved to 
 have peace, at whatsoever price it should be 
 obtained ; accordingly, as if with one voice, they 
 consented to the creation of their new officers, 
 who were called Tribunes of the People, Appius 
 alone protesting with vehemence against the 
 measure. 
 
 The tribunes of the people were at first five in 
 number, though afterwards their body was in- 
 creased by five more. They were always an- 
 nually elected by the people, and almost always 
 from their body. They had the power of an-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. ^1' 
 
 nulling all such decrees of the senate, as they 
 considered to lean upon the people; and to 
 show their readiness to protect the meanest, their 
 doors stood open night and day, to receive their 
 complaints. They at first had their seats placed 
 before the doors of the senate-house; and being 
 called in, they were to examine every decree, 
 annulling it by the word veto, I forbid it, or 
 confirming it by signing the letter T, which 
 gave it its validity. Their persons were to be 
 sacred ; and though they were marked out by 
 none of the ensigns of office, such as the curule 
 chair, or the lictors which attended upon other 
 magistrates, yet their power was greatly supe- 
 rior, having a negative vote upon all decrees of 
 the senate. They were however to have no au* 
 thority without the walls of the city, and it was 
 unlawful for them to be absent from it a day ; 
 but what still most diminished their authority 
 was, that any one of their number could put a 
 negative upon the measures of the rest, and this 
 was afterwards found the most artful method 
 of opposing them; for one gained over to the 
 senate, rendered the attempts of the rest abor- 
 tive. This new office therefore being thus in- 
 stituted, Sicinius Vellutus, Lucius Junius, Caius 
 Licinius, Albinus, and Icilius Ruga, were the first 
 tribunes that were chosen by the suffi'ages of 
 the people. The senate also made an edict con- 
 firming the abolition ofdebts; and novy all things 
 being adjusted both on the one side and the other, 
 the people, after having sacrificed to the gods 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of the mountain, returned back once more in 
 triumph to Rojne. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 From the Creation of the Tribunes to the Appoint' 
 ment of the Decemviri, 
 
 u. c. We have hitherto seen the people strug- 
 260. gling against the exorbitant power of the 
 senate, but we now begin a period, in which 
 the senate are struggling against the increasing 
 power of the people; a period in which the 
 latter, beginning to feel their own force, and 
 being put into motion, bear all down before them 
 with irresistible violence. The first advantage 
 the tribunes obtained was a permission to choose 
 from among the people, two annual officers as 
 assistants in the fatigues of their duty. These 
 were called aediles, as a part of their business 
 consisted in taking care of the public buildings, 
 aqueducts, and sewers; and likewise in deter- 
 mining some causes, that bad hitherto been de- 
 terminable by the consuls only. They were to 
 remark those w^ho held more land than the laws 
 allowed them ; to curb all public immoralities, 
 and abolish nuisances ; to provide corn and oil 
 in times of famine, and to prevent any mono- 
 polies that might be made by the purchasers of
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 83 
 
 these commodities. The people having obtained 
 these privileges, and all their clamours being 
 appeased, now marched against the Volsci and 
 Antiates, took Corioli, one of their chief towns, 
 and soon after overthrew the enemy with great 
 slaughter. In this battle Marcius, after sur- 
 named Coriolanus, particularly distinguished 
 himself. 
 
 The people being thus rendered more turbu- 
 lent by the condescension of the senate, and by 
 a triumph over the enemy, had soon after fresh 
 opportunity to show their aptitude to clamour. 
 During the late separation, all tillage had been 
 entirely neglected, and a famine was the conse- 
 quence the ensuing season. The senate did all 
 that lay in their power to remedy the distress, 
 but the people, pinched with want, and willing 
 to throw the blame on any but themselves, a- 
 scribed the whole of their distress to the avarice 
 of the patricians, who having purchased up all 
 the corn, as was alleged, intended to indem- 
 nify themselves for the abolition of debts, by 
 selling it out at great advantage , but this was 
 not all they were charged with. The senate, in 
 order to lessen the number of citizens in this 
 time of famine, had sent many of them to Veli* 
 tra, a city of the Volsci ans, that had lately been 
 much depopulated by a plague. This excited 
 an universal clamour among the people, which 
 the tribunes took care to increase. This they 
 said was only an artful method of getting rid of 
 such citizens as were obnoxious to the nobles ;
 
 84 •' THE HrSTORY OF THE "' 
 
 it was little less than banishing the bravest men 
 of the state without an oiFence, and thus, by- 
 weakening the strength of the people, to increase 
 their own. These reports being industriously 
 propagated, an assembly was called, in which 
 the consuls and the tribunes, by turns, harangued 
 the people. A contest managed with so much 
 impetuosity on both sides, every moment grew 
 warmer: the consuls insisted, that the tribunes 
 had no right to address the assembly; the tri- 
 bunes on the other hand asserted, that their office 
 was sacred, and that they ought to sutler no in- 
 terruption in their duty. In this the people una- 
 nimously concurred, for whatever their leaders 
 thought fit to propose, they were ready to ratify; 
 a law therefore was made, that no man should 
 dare to interrupt the tribunes while they spoke 
 to the people, a law which greatly increased 
 their power, as now, from taking the assembly's 
 instructions, they were authorized to direct 
 them. 
 
 The city, after this, enjoyed a transient calm, 
 some of the people retired to their houses to sup- 
 port famine with patience and resignation, while 
 others made incursions upon the enemy, and re- 
 turned with the spoil. But abundance, soon 
 after, renewed in them that turbulence, which 
 the continuance of the famine had appeased, but 
 not removed. A large fleet of ships laden with 
 corn from Sicily (a great part of which was a 
 present from Gelon, the king of that country, to 
 the Romans, and the rest purchased by the senate
 
 COSTMONWEALTH OF ROME. 85 
 
 with the piibHc money) raised their spirits once 
 more,vand inflamed their eagerness for dissension. 
 When it came to be debated in the senate, in 
 what manner this large supply should be distri- 
 buted, violent divisions arose. Some were for 
 letting the poorer sort have a sufficient quantity 
 for nothing, others were for selling it at a low 
 price, and thus reimburse the treasury; but when 
 it came to the turn ofCoriolanus to speak, he. 
 insisted, that no part of it should be distributed, 
 until thelate invasions which the people had made 
 upon the rights of the senate should be restored, 
 and until the commonwealth was reduced to its 
 former regularity. ''Why," cried he, "do we 
 " bear to see the state divided between two 
 " powers, whose dissensions only serve to harass 
 " it the more ? Can we tamely bear to see tri- 
 " bunes give laws in Rome, and rule with uncon- 
 " trolled power, when we could not stoop to 
 " kings ? If the factious and turbulent are un- 
 " willing to live at Rome, let them retire once 
 " more to their mountain ; it is better not to 
 " govern, if we must share our command with the 
 " dregs of the people." A speech so inflamma- 
 tory, and a measure so violent, rekindled all the 
 flames of dissension. The multitude, in the vio- 
 lence of their resentment, would have fallen upon 
 the senate itself, but the tribunes restrained their 
 fury, and only pointed it upon Coriolanus, whom 
 they devoted to destruction. Coriolanus, how- 
 ever, still remained unshaken ; nature had made 
 him bold, frugal, and inflexible, and to these he
 
 86 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 added the acquired virtues of great respect for the 
 laws, great knowledge of war, and an immoderate 
 regard for his country, or rather that part of it 
 whose quarrel he espoused. He accordingly 
 treated the summons of the tribunes, to appear 
 before them, with contempt. They therefore 
 next sent their aediles to apprehend and bring him 
 before the people; but a party of the young pa- 
 tricians gathered round their favourite, repulsed 
 the aediles, and having beaten, drove them away. 
 This was a signal for universal uproar, the tumult 
 increased from every quarter, and a civil war 
 threatened to ensue, had not the consuls promised 
 the people the most ample redress. The tri- 
 bunes insisted, that he should be thrown head- 
 long from the Tarpeian rock, as a rebel and a 
 contemner of the sacred authority of the Roman 
 people, and condemned him, even without de- 
 manding the suffrages of the people. They were 
 going once more to lay hold on his person, but 
 the patricians again rescued him. A conduct so 
 resolute on one side, and so assuming on the other, 
 in some measure put the populace in suspense ; 
 they were afraid to assist the tribunes against 
 those who had been their generals and captains, 
 and gazed upon the contest with trembling irre- 
 solution. Their backwardness, therefore, to lend 
 assistance, began to raise suspicions in the tri- 
 bunes, that they had proceeded with too much 
 violence; they, in consequence, demanded to 
 bring his trial before the assembly of the people, 
 and that his case should be argued before that
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 87 
 
 authority, from which there lay no appeal. The 
 patricians, who, though conscious of the inno- 
 cence of Coriolanus, were yet willing to give 
 peace to the city, consented, and a day was ap- 
 pointed for making his defence. Coriolanus de- 
 manded of the tribunes, what they intended lo 
 charge him with; to which they replied, that 
 they intended to accuse him of aiming at sove- 
 reignty and tyranny, whereupon he cheerfully 
 put himself upon trial, conscious of his innocence 
 of the charge. 
 
 When the appointed day was come, all per- 
 sons were filled with the greatest expectation, 
 and a vast concourse from the adjacent country 
 assembled and filled up the Forum. The tri- 
 bunes, in the mean time, divided the people by 
 tribes, separating them with cords from each 
 other, and ordering that they should give their 
 votes separately, and not by centuries, as since 
 the time of Hostilius had always been the cus- 
 tom. This, as we have remarked before, was 
 depriving the patricians of all their influence, 
 since the numbers of the populace were sure to 
 prevail ; however, the senate, unwilling to make 
 the cause of Coriolanus their own, at last con- 
 sented to this stretch of power in the plebeians j 
 but, to make a show of defending him to the 
 last, one of the consuls mounted the rostrum in 
 his favour, declaring what actions of service he 
 had done the state; how little, a few words es- 
 caping in the heat of passion, ought to be at- 
 tended to; he signified, that the whole senate
 
 83 .-■ THE PIISTOIIY OF THE 
 
 were petitioners in his cause, and desired the tri- 
 bunes, that they would keep wholly to their 
 threatened impeachment, namely, his aiming at 
 the sovereign power. To this Sicinius, the tri- 
 bune, replied, that he would urge against the 
 guilty, all things, of every kind, that could tend 
 to prove him guilty j thartthe state had too much 
 to fear from his influence and his number of 
 clients, not to use every means of bringing him 
 to justice; that he owed much more to the 
 safety of the state, than to any vain complaisance 
 to the senate ; and that the very attempt to repress 
 the power of the people, who had all the rights 
 of humanity to govern themselves, was a crime. 
 Coriolanus, upon this, presented himself before 
 the people with a degree of intrcj.idity that 
 merited better fortune. His graceful person, his 
 persuasive eloquence, the cries of those whom 
 he had saved from the enemy, inclined the 
 auditors to relent; he began by recounting all 
 tlie battles he had fought, and the various posts 
 he had sustained; he showed the various crowns 
 which had been given him by his generals, as 
 rewards of merit, and exposed to view the 
 numberless wounds he had received in acquir- 
 ing them; he related all the breaches he had 
 entered, and all the lives he had saved, calling 
 out to such as were present, to bear witness 
 to the truth of his recital. These, with the most 
 moving protestations, entreated their fellows to 
 spare that life by which they lived, and if there 
 must be an offering for public resentment, th^y
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. Sd 
 
 themselves were ready to die for him. A defence^ 
 like this, supported with all that boldness which 
 conscious innocence inspires, moved every hearer 
 to think of pardon; many cried out, that so brave 
 a man deserved a triumph, not death, and that 
 his very trial was a national reproach. The 
 giddy multitude were going therefore to absolve 
 him, when Decius, one of the tribunes, a man of 
 fluent eloquence, rose up to reply. *' However," • 
 cried he, " we may be prevented by the senate 
 " from urging those speeches which were made 
 ** amongst that august body, tending to destroy 
 *' the privileges of the people, yet still we are 
 " not unprovided ; we decline aggravating what 
 ** he has said, we have facts, which we call upon 
 *^ the accused to clear himself of. We have an 
 " ancient law amongst us, that all plunder taken 
 " from the enemy shall be appropriated to the 
 ** use of the public, and be given into the trea- 
 ** sury, untouched by the general. But a law so 
 " equitable in itself, and so inviolably observed 
 " by our ancestors, has been infringed by this 
 " man, who stands accused before you. In a 
 "late incursion into the territories of Antium, 
 *' though his plunder, both in slaves, cattle, and 
 *' provisions, was very great, yet the public were 
 " neither the better nor the richer for it; it was 
 ** divided only among his friends and followers, 
 " men, whom probably he only intended to en- 
 " rich, to be the better able to secure our ruin. 
 *^ It has ever been the practice of tyrants to begin 
 *« the work of ambition, by fornfjing a numerous
 
 90 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ** body of partizans, who are willing to lose pub- 
 ** lie regard in private emolument. Here then we 
 ^* ground our charge ; let him, if he can, deny the 
 *' fact, and let him bring proofs, not by vainly 
 " showing his scars, but by convincing us of his 
 " innocence." This charge was entirely unex- 
 pected. Coriolanus had, in fact, when the peo- 
 ple refused to list, issued out at the head of his 
 clients, and plundered the enemy, who had the 
 insolence of making incursions to the very walls 
 of Rome. These spoils, which were so justly 
 earned, he never thought of bringing into the 
 treasury, as they were the acquisition of a private 
 adventure. Being therefore unable to answer 
 what was alleged against him to the satisfaction 
 of the people, and utterly confounded with the 
 charge, the tribunes immediately took the votes, 
 and Coriolanus was condemned to perpetual 
 exile. 
 
 Never did the populace testify a sincerer joy, 
 even in triumphing over a vanquished enemy, 
 than they did on this occasion, having in a man- 
 ner totally controlled the power of the senate, 
 since henceforward they assumed a right of sum- 
 moning any of the individuals of that body be- 
 fore them, whom they thought proper to accuse. 
 The senate, on the other hand, saw themselves 
 reduced to an abject dependence upon the mul- 
 titude, deprived of all security for their persons, 
 and all their former rights of being judged by 
 -each other. This sentence against their bravest 
 defender struck their whole body with sorrow,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 91 
 
 consternation, and regret. Coriolanus alone, in 
 the midst of this tumult, seemed an unconcerned 
 spectator. He returned home, followed by the 
 lamentations of hundreds of the most respectable 
 senators and citizens of Rome, in order to take a 
 lasting leave of his wife, his children, and his 
 mother Veturia. While they, in the first trans- 
 ports of sorrow, hung round him, as loath to 
 part, he, with manly fortitude, tore himself from 
 their embraces ; he exhorted them to bear their 
 fate with fortitude, but to think of him no more. 
 Thus recommending his little children to their 
 care, and all to the care of heaven, he left the 
 city, without followers or fortune, to take refuge 
 among the enemies of Rome. Thus the ple- 
 beians, who had obtained tribunes merely for their 
 own defence, employed those very magistrates 
 to annoy others, and by insensible degrees strip- 
 ped the patricians of all their former privileges. 
 
 Coriolanus, now obliged to wander, sought less 
 for a retreat from Rome, than for an opportunity 
 of vengeance. All his fortitude, and the early 
 institutions of his mother, were not able to re- 
 press the resentment of his wrongs, or his desire 
 of punishing his enemies, even thdugh it involved 
 the ruin of his country. Tullus Attius, a man of 
 great power among the Volsci, and a violent ene- 
 my of the Romans, seemed to him a fit instrument 
 to assist his revenge. Resolving to apply to him, 
 he enters Antium, the city where Tullus com- 
 manded, by night, and going directly to his house, 
 seated himself near the hearth, by the household.
 
 92 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 gods, a place which among the heathens was 
 held sacred. Tullus being informed, that a stran- 
 ger, with an air of dignity far beyond what was 
 common, had taken refuge in his house, came 
 and demanded his name and business. *' My 
 ** name," cried the Roman, " is Caius Marcius : 
 '' my surname is Coriolanus, the only reward 
 " that remains of all my services. I am banished 
 '* Rome for being a friend to it ; I am come to take 
 '* refuge here, where I have ever been a declared 
 " enemy. If you are willing to make use of my 
 " services, you shall find me grateful ; if you are 
 " willing to revenge the injuries I have done, 
 " behold me in your power." Tullus, struck 
 with his dignity and known courage, instantly 
 gave him the hand of friendship, and espoused 
 his quarrel. The first thing therefore to be done, 
 was to induce the Volsci to break the league 
 which had been made with Rome ; and for this 
 purpose, Tullus sent many of his citizens to 
 Rome, in order to see some games at that time 
 celebrating, but in the mean time gave the se- 
 nate private information, that the strangers had 
 dangerous intentions of burning the city. This 
 had the desired effect; the senate issued an order, 
 that ail strangers, whoever they were, should de- 
 part from Rome before sun-set. This order Tul- 
 lus represented to his countrymen as an infrac- 
 tion of the treaty, and procured an embassy to 
 Rome, complaining of the breach, and rede- 
 mandingall the territories belonging to theVol- 
 scians, of which they had been violently dispos--
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 93 
 
 sessed, declaring war in case of a refusal. This 
 message was treated by the senate with contempt ; 
 they bade the ambassadors inform their country- 
 men ; that menaces were not the way to prevail 
 with Rome; that they would keep with their 
 swords those possessions which their valour had 
 won; and should the Volscians be the first to 
 take up arms, the Romans would be the last to 
 lay them down. 
 
 War being thus declared on both sides, Cori- 
 olanus and TuUus were made generals of the 
 Volscians, and accordingly invaded the Roman 
 territories, ravaging and laying waste all such 
 lands as belonged to the plebeians, but letting^ 
 those of the senators remain untouched. In the 
 mean time, the levies went on but slowly at 
 Rome ; the two consuls, who were re-elected by 
 the people, seemed but little skilled in war, and 
 even feared to encounter a general, whom they 
 knew to be their superior in the field. The allies 
 also showed their fears, and slowly brought in 
 their succours, so that Coriolanus continued to 
 take their towns one after another. Circaeum, a 
 Roman colony, first submitted to his arms ; he 
 then attacked the Latins, who vainly implored 
 assistance from Rome. The towns of Tolerium, 
 Lavici, Pes, and Bola, were all taken by storm, 
 their goods plundered, and the inhabitants made 
 prisoners of war; such as yielded were treated 
 mildly ; such as resisted were put to the sword ; 
 fortune followed him in every expedition, and he 
 was now so famous for his victories, that the Vol-
 
 94 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 sci left their towns defenceless, to follow hioi into 
 the field, being assured, under his conduct, of 
 success. The very soldiers of his colleague's 
 army came over to him, and would acknowledge 
 no other general. Thus finding himself unop- 
 posed in the field, and at the head of a numer- 
 ous army, he at length pitched his camp at the 
 Cluilian ditch, within five miles of Rome. No- 
 thing now was to be seen in the city that had 
 lately been so turbulent, but timidity and despair. 
 The people, who from their walls beheld the ene- 
 my ravaging their fields, begged peace with tears 
 and supplications. They now began to entreat 
 the senate to recall the edict which had banished 
 Coriolanus, and acknowledged the injustice of 
 their former proceedings. The senate, however, 
 despised such meanness, resolving, if possible, 
 not to betray the injustice of the state to foreign 
 enemies, or to grant those favours to a traitor, 
 which they had denied him when but accused 
 of being so. Yet what could their resolutions 
 avail, when they had not power to support them. 
 Coriolanus approached nearer every day, and at 
 last invested the city, fully resolved to besiege it. 
 It was then that the fierce spirit of the patricians 
 was entirely subdued; both senate and people 
 unanimously agreed to send deputies to him with 
 proposals of a restoration, in case he should draw 
 off his army. Coriolanus received their propo- 
 sals at the head of his principal ofiTicers, and with 
 the sternness of a general that was to give the law. 
 He, with the utmost severity, informed them that
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 95^ 
 
 he was now general of the Volscians, and had 
 only their interest to consider : that if they hoped 
 for peace, they must restore all the towns which 
 originally belonged to that people, and make 
 them free of the city, as the Latins were ; and 
 that he would give them thirty days to consider 
 of it. The intermediate time he employed in 
 taking several other towns from the Latins, at the 
 end of which he returned, and again encamped 
 his army before the walls of Rome. 
 
 Another embassy was now sent forth, con- 
 juring him not to exact from his native city 
 aught but what became Romans to grant. Co- 
 riolanus, however, naturally inflexible and se- 
 vere, still persisted in his former demands, and 
 granted them but three days in which to finish 
 their deliberations. A message so peremptory, 
 filled the whole town with consternation. Every 
 one now ran to take arms, some posted themselves 
 upon the ramparts, others watched the gates, lest 
 they should be secretly delivered up by partizans 
 which Coriolanus had within ; others fortified 
 their houses, as if the enemy were already ma- 
 sters of the walls. In this general confusion, 
 there was neither discipline nor command. The 
 consuls, whose fears only were their advisers, had 
 been elected for very different merits than those 
 of skill in war. The tribunes, lately so fierce, 
 were now no more heard of, all shared the uni- 
 versal terror, and it seemed as if the boasted cou- 
 rage of Rome had gone over, with their general, 
 into the camp of the Volscians. In this exigence,
 
 96 '^THi: HISTORY OF THs:''^'' 
 
 all that seenied left them was anbther deputation 
 still more solemn than either of the former, com- 
 posed of the pontiffs, the priests, and the augurs. 
 These, clothed in their habits of ceremony, and 
 with a grave and mournful deportment, issued 
 from the city, and entered the camp of the con- 
 queror : they besought him by all that was sa- 
 cred, by the respect he owed the gods, and that 
 which he might have for those, who, being the 
 servants of the gods, were now at his feet, to 
 give peace to his country : but all in vain : they 
 found him severe and inflexible as before. He 
 testified that respect for them, which the sanctity 
 of their characters demanded, but sent them 
 away without relaxing in any of his demands. 
 
 When the people saw them return ineffectual- 
 ly, they began to give up the commonwealth 
 as lost. Their temples were filled with old men, 
 with women and children, who, prostrate at their 
 altars, put up their ardent prayers for the pre- 
 servation of their country. Nothing was to be 
 heard but anguish and lamentation, nothing to 
 be seen but scenes of affright and distress. At 
 length it was suggested to them, that what could 
 not be effected by the intercession of the senate, 
 or the adjuration of the priests, might bebrought 
 about by the tears of his wife, or the commands 
 of his mother. This deputation seemed to be 
 relished by all, and even the senate itself gave it 
 the sanction of their authority. Veturia, the 
 mother of Coriolanus, at first made some hesita- 
 tion to undertake so pious a work, knowing the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 97 
 
 inflexible temper of her son, and fearing only to 
 show his disobedience in a new point of light, by 
 rejecting the commands of a parent : however, 
 she undertook the embassy, and set forward from 
 the city, accompanied by many of the principal 
 matrons of Rome, with Volumnia his wife, and 
 his two children. Coriolanus, who at a distance 
 discovered this mournful train of females, was re- 
 solved to give them a denial, and called his offi- 
 cers round him to be witnesses of his resolution : 
 but when told, that his mother and his wife were 
 among the number, he instantly came down from 
 his tribunal, to meet and embrace them. At iirstj 
 the women's tears and embraces took away the 
 power of words, and the rough soldier himself, 
 hard as he was, could not refrain from sharing 
 in their distress. *' My son," cried she, " how 
 " am I to consider this meeting ? do I embrace 
 " my son or my enemy? am I your mother or 
 ** your captive ? how have I lived to see this day, 
 " to see my son a banished man, and, still more 
 " distressful, the enemy of his country ? How 
 " has he been able to turn his arms against the 
 " place which gave him life, how direct his rage 
 " against those walls which protect his wife, his 
 *• children, and his gods? But it is to me only, 
 " that my country owes her oppressor : had I 
 " never been a mother, Rome had still been free; 
 *' the wretched consciousness of this will afflict 
 " me as long as life shall last, and that cannot 
 " last me long. But though I am prepared for 
 " death, yet, at least, let these wretched sufferers 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 " claim some part of your compassion, and think 
 " what will he their fate, when to banishment 
 " they must add captivity/' Coriolanus, during 
 this speech, seemed much agitated by contending 
 passions ; his mother, who saw him moved, still 
 seconded her words by the most persuasive elo- 
 quence, her tears: his wife and children hung 
 round him, entreating for protection and pity, 
 while the fair train, her companions, added their 
 lamentations, and deplored their own and their 
 country's distress. Coriolanus, for a moment, was 
 silent, feeling the strong conflict between honour 
 and inclination ; at length, as if roused from his 
 dream, he flew to take up his mother, who had 
 fallen at his feet, crying out, *' O my mother, 
 " thou hast saved Rome, but lost thy son 1" He 
 accordingly gave orders to draw off the army, pre- 
 tending to the officers, that the city was too strong 
 to be taken. Tullus, who had long envied his 
 glory, was not remiss in aggravating the lenity of 
 his conduct to his countrymen. Upon their re- 
 turn, Coriolanus was slain in an insurrection of 
 the people, and afterwards honourably buried, 
 with late and ineffectual repentance. 
 
 Great and many were the public rejoicings at 
 Rome, upon the retreat of the Volscian army. 
 The senate decreed to grant the women what 
 honours they should demand, but they only ask- 
 ed to have a temple dedicated to Female For- 
 tune, built in the place where they had delivered 
 their country, which was accordingly erected at 
 the public charge. In the mean time, that cou-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 99 
 
 rage which had been for a time overpowered, 
 began again to show itself in the field. Coriola- 
 nus being no more, they ventured to face their 
 Volscian enemies, who indeed contributed by 
 their own contentions, together with that of 
 their allies, to render any foreign force in a 
 manner unnecessary to their overthrow. A sig- 
 nal victory was obtained over them and the 
 Hernici, the year ensuing. Among others, Tul- 
 Jus their general was slain. 
 
 Spurius Cassius Viscellinus had the principal 
 honour in obtaining this victory. He was a 
 man naturally vain, and filled with ostentation : 
 ambitious to an extreme, and as ready to over- 
 rate his own services, as to undervalue those of 
 another. He had been three times consul, and 
 had been decreed two triumphs by the senate; 
 these advantages, added to some popularity, 
 raised his pride to aspire at being king of Rome. 
 In order to prepare for this, being empowered 
 by the senate to give the conquered nations what 
 conditions of peace he should think proper, he 
 resolved to attach them to his interests by the 
 most flattering concessions. He therefore gave 
 them back a third of what he had conquered ; 
 he granted them the title of citizens of Rome, 
 and treated the vanquished, in all respects, as he 
 would have done a victorious army. To make 
 friends in every part of the state, he gave the 
 Latins on6 moiety of the conquered lands re- 
 maining, and reserved the other part for the poor 
 citizens of Rome. Not content with this, he
 
 100 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 was resolved to increase his popularity by distri- 
 buting among the poor some lands which had 
 long been in the ])ossession of the rich, and 
 which he asserted to be the property of the pub- 
 lico. Accordingly^ on the day succeeding that 
 of his triumph, giving an account, according to 
 custom, of what he had done, he expatiated upon 
 his extraordinary care and wise management of 
 the commonwealth; on his having increased the 
 subjects and citizens of Rome, and on his own 
 peculiar endowments for guiding the state : he 
 went on to observe, that however extensive the 
 conquests of Rome might be, it signified but 
 little, if the rich only enjoyed the advantages of 
 them ; if that while the senate and patricians 
 lived in affluence, the veteran soldier pined in 
 want and obscurity. He therefore was of opi- 
 nion, that an exact estimate should be made of 
 all the lands taken from the enemy, which were 
 now in possession of the rich, and that they 
 should be equally divided among the lower ci-r 
 tizens. This was the original of the famous 
 Agrarian law, which afterwards caused , such 
 disturbances among the people. Nothing could 
 exceed the indignation of the senate upon hear- 
 ing it proposed; as they had before been almost 
 stripped of their public rights, they saw this at- 
 tacked them in their private possessions: all that 
 fortune which their ancestors or themselves had 
 acquired by valour or industry, was now des- 
 tined to be plunderec) from them, to be distri- 
 buted among the indolent, the extravagant, and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 101 
 
 the base. One deliberation succeeded upon an- 
 other to concert measures how to frustrate the 
 effects of this law, and the ambition of Cassius. 
 The people were not less mutinous on their part ; 
 the tribunes, and those whose fortunes were above 
 the lowest rank,, were unwilling to be reduced to 
 a level with the meanest of those they pretended 
 to direct: the clients of the rich were attached to 
 the interest of their patrons; but notwithstand- 
 ing this, the majority of the multitude, with 
 Cassius at their head, strenuously clamoured for 
 the Agrarian law, and threatened destruction to 
 the empire in case of refusal. Even several of 
 the Hernici and Volsci were called in on this 
 occasion to increase the tumult, or to bring off 
 the proposer, in case of failure. At last, the 
 senate perceived the necessity of complying, and 
 therefore gave the populace a promise that the 
 lands should be divided among them according 
 to their desire; but that the allies and associates, 
 who had no part in acquiring those lands, should 
 have no share in the division. This promise 
 at present appeased the people, and gave the se- 
 nate an opportunity of concerting measures for 
 punishing the original proposer. Accordingly, 
 some time after, the questors, by their order, 
 appointed a day for Cassius to answer to the 
 charge of his designing to become king, before 
 the assembly of the people. A blow so unex- 
 pected, alarmed this demagogue with the most 
 just apprehensions, particularly as he had the 
 tribunes as well as the patricians against him.
 
 102 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 He appeared before the assembly habited in a 
 manner becoming his situation, and attempted 
 to interest the people in his favour. He alleg- 
 ed, that he was persecuted in this manner by the 
 patricians, for his zeal in their cause : that he 
 was their only surviving friend, and that their 
 interests were combined with his. But he found 
 himself deserted by all. The senate had the 
 justest reason to pursue him; the tribunes envy- 
 ing him his share of popularitj?^, neglected to 
 espouse his cause; and the multitude, pleased 
 with the patricians for their late compliance vvith 
 their demands, gave him up to their fury, who 
 was the promoter of them. Being therefore 
 found guilty of a number of crimes, all tending 
 towards altering the constitution, notwithstand- 
 ing his many real services, and the intercession 
 of his friends and clients, in mourning, he was 
 thrown headlong from the Tarpeian rock, by 
 those very people whose interests he had endea- 
 voured to extend. It was too late that they per- 
 ceived their error, and began to regret their 
 champion with a degree of sorrow, that but ar- 
 gued their ingratitude. 
 
 u, c. Soon after the death of Cassius, the peo. 
 
 274. pie became again urgent for the execution 
 of the Agrarian law; but the senate, by a subter- 
 fuge unworthy their wisdom, caused the consuls 
 to prepare for an expedition against the ^qui. 
 The people however at first refused to enlist, till 
 theconsulsjhittingupon a new expedient, ordered 
 all the country houses of the recusants to be le-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 103 
 
 veiled with the ground. This had the desired 
 effect ; numbers came to offer themselves, to save 
 their possessions from destruction, and were led 
 against the enemy, with the usual good fortune 
 of Rome. Thus, while the contests continued 
 in the city, the Roman arms made continual 
 progress in Italy: for that spirit of liberty which 
 animated both parties, only contributed to in- 
 flame their courage. 
 
 These dilatory arts continued for near five 
 years on the part of the senate, and as obstinate 
 a spirit of clamour on that of the people: the 
 one having their private interests, as well as those 
 of the public, to engage them; the other having 
 a promise given, and a consciousness of their own 
 superior power, to increase their obstinacy. In 
 the midst of these troubles, the Romans received 
 a signal defeat, under the conduct of Virginiusj 
 one of their consuls, from the Etrurian army ; and 
 though Fabius came very opportunely to his re- 
 lief, yet, upon his retreat, the enemy made incur- 
 sions, even to the walls of Rome. This served 
 to increase the discontents and the animosities 
 of the citizens ; the senators still withholding 
 their promise, and the people refusing to enlist. 
 In such an extremity, the family of the Fabii, 
 to the number of four thousand men, offered to 
 defend the frontiers of the Roman territories. 
 They built a castle nigh the borders of the ene- 
 my, and making frequent incursions, greatly en- 
 riched themselves by the spoil. It will not com- 
 port with the brevity of this work, to relate all
 
 104 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the minute transactions, and battles without con- 
 sequence, which attended these wars between 
 Rome and the Httle states round her. It will 
 suffice to say, that they all ended with the same 
 good fortune, namely, the enemies begging 
 peace, and the extension of the territories of 
 Rome. The Fabii, however, were less successful, 
 being all cut off to a man by an ambuscade, 
 •which was laid for them by the people of Veii. 
 Of this noble family, one only survived, whose 
 posterity became afterwards equally serviceable 
 to the state. 
 
 . But not the territories alone of Rome w^ere 
 increased, during these times of war and civil 
 u. c. commotion, her citizens also became more 
 277. numerous. In the enumeration of this 
 year, they were found to amount to one hundred 
 and eleven thousand men, fit to bear arms, with 
 treble that number of women, children, and 
 slaves. This increase of people, without com- 
 merce, only tended to advance the disturbances 
 of the city. Every year produced sonte new 
 tumult between the contending orders of the 
 state. The people, now become the electors of 
 the magistrates, had not skill or integrity to fix 
 upon capable men ; and scarce did any consul 
 lay down his office, but the multitude were fore- 
 most to accuse his remissness or incapacity. It 
 was in this manner that they accused Menenius, 
 their consul, for suffering the family of the Fabii 
 to be cut off; he was indeed an unskilful general, 
 but he was at the same time innocent of the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 105 
 
 charge laid against him. This, however, did not 
 avail ; he was fined about twenty crowns, a sum 
 which, though moderate in modern estimation, 
 he was unable to pay ; he therefore, in detesta- 
 tion of the injustice and ingratitude of his fellow 
 citizens, shut himself up in his own house, and 
 starved himself to death. 
 
 The year following, the two consuls of the for- 
 mer year, Manlius and Fabius> were in the same 
 manner cited by the tribunes to appear before 
 the people. The Agrarian law was the object 
 invariably pursued, and they were accused of 
 having made unjustifiable delays in putting it off. 
 The same perseverance on one side, and obstinacy 
 on the other, again set the city in a ferment, and 
 threatened destruction to one of the parties; when 
 Genutius the tribune, who had revived the law, 
 was found dead in his bed, though without any 
 marks of violence. A circumstance like this, 
 which should have awakened the suspicions of 
 the people, only served to alarm their supersti- 
 tions ; they began to think the gods were against 
 their cause, and showed symptoms of returning 
 to their former obedience. The consuls, in order 
 to avail themselves of this lucky occasion, began 
 to make fresh levies, for it was now become the 
 settled policy of the times, to draw off the pec- 
 cant humours of the people by leading them to 
 war; wherefore, mounting their tribunals, and 
 being attended by their lictors, they continued 
 to enrol the citizens with success; till coming to 
 one Volero, a centurion, who refused to be en-
 
 106 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 listed as a private sentinel, they ordered him to 
 be stripped and scourged. This injudicious se- 
 verity not only rekindled the people's resentment, 
 but afterwards produced a new cause of conten- 
 tion, concerning the power of the consuls and the 
 privileges of the people. The prisoner was rescued 
 by the multitude, the magistrates driven off, and, 
 still to complete their mortification, soon after 
 Volero was made one of the tribunes of the people. 
 The election of this demagogue seemed very 
 injurious to the patrician party ; he was not only 
 resolved upon carrying the Agrarian law, but 
 also upon enacting another, in which the people 
 should give their votes by tribes, and not by 
 their curiae, or their centuries. This was another 
 mortal blow to the patrician power; for, as when 
 the people v,oted by centuries, the patricians 
 were entire masters of the contest, and when by 
 curias, in which only the inhabitants of the city 
 •voted, they also, from their number of clients, 
 had the majority of voices; so now, when by 
 this law all freemen of Rome, from whatever part 
 of its territories they came, should be admitted 
 to give a single vote, equal to that of the first se- 
 nator, all influence was entirely lost, and the pa- 
 tricians had nothing to do but to remain passive. 
 It was, therefore, at first strongly opposed by the 
 senate, and as warmly urged by the people. In 
 u. c. this contest Appius Claudius, the consul, 
 282. son to the former Appius, by a sort of 
 hereditary hatred to the people, was among the 
 foremost. In one of their public assemblies he
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 10? 
 
 opposed their design so warmly, and so justly ex- 
 posed the turbulent temper of the tribunes, that 
 they ordered him to depart the assembly, and, 
 upon his refusal, to be sent to prison. 
 
 A stretch of power so great, astonished all the 
 senators who were present; they offered to take 
 arms in his defence, and as the people had in the 
 former case beaten off the lictors, so they were 
 in this driven off by the patricians. This seemed 
 the signal for a new tumult ; stones, torches, and 
 every weapon that fury could furnish, in a place 
 where the citizens never carried arms, were em- 
 ployed against each other. But Quintius, the 
 other consul, of a mild and peaceable disposition, 
 throwing himselfinto the midst of thecombatants, 
 entreating and beseeching some, and menacing 
 others, for that night assuaged their mutual ani- 
 mosity. Their tumults, however, were renewed 
 the day following, with more than former fury: 
 Appius, with all his native fierceness, charging 
 at the head of his clients, and other young patri- 
 cians. But Lectorius the tribune, with an im- 
 mense multitude of the lower part of the people, 
 took possession of the Capitol, where they forti- 
 fied themselves, seemingly determined to hold it 
 out against their opposers. Their conduct now 
 seemed still more resolute than in the former de- 
 fection of the army to mount Aventine; for, as 
 in that, the insurgents were at a distance from 
 Rome, in this, they were in the very heart of the 
 city. The appeasing of this tumult was reserved 
 for Quintius also, who obtained, by his gentle
 
 108 THE HISTORY OF THE • 
 
 remonstrances, to have the law referred to the 
 senate, which after many debates, which form 
 rather than uncertainty might have dictated, 
 resolved that the tribunes and the people were 
 to be gratified, and that the law was to be enact- 
 ed without delay. It was passed by the consent 
 of all the orders, and the officers of the people 
 were elected from henceforward by the tribes. 
 Thus the people by degrees left the patricians 
 nothing but the shadow of power, of even which 
 the multitude, now taught the art of uniting, 
 were resolved to deprive them. 
 
 In the mean time, Appius, as from the former 
 part of his conduct we may well suppose, was 
 far from being disposed to concur in this new 
 concession of power: he bore the people a 
 contempt, that rather seemed the effect of habit 
 than of reason, and inveighed agains't the senate's 
 pusillanimity. Nor were the people ignorant of 
 this, but desired an occasion of showing their 
 resentment, for which an opportunity soon of- 
 fered, upon his being appointed general against 
 the Volscians. These, as usual, had made in- 
 roads upon the unguardedfrontiersof Rome; and 
 Appius being now the commander of the army, 
 the natural severity of his temper had a fidd to 
 display itself in. The Roman discipline, which 
 at the mildest was extremely rigorous, he by his 
 strictness rendered almost insupportable. The 
 soldiers but slowly obeyed a general they hated ; 
 and he, in return, increased his rigours upon the 
 slowness of their obedience. They now therefore
 
 • COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 109 
 
 considered his severity rather as a malicious 
 vengeance, than a wholesome chastisement, and 
 only awaited the enemy, to retaliate, not upon 
 his person, but his glory. Accordingly the ene- 
 my appeared, and the Romans fled. He led them 
 into the camp in order to harangue them, and 
 they universally refused to give him an audience. 
 He then endeavoured to draw them off from the 
 enemy, but the whole body fled, instead of mak- 
 ing a regular retreat. At length he found means 
 of securing that part of his forces which yet re- 
 mained, by encamping them in a place of safety; 
 where marshalling them in their ranks, and re- 
 viling them for their cowardice, he gave posterity 
 a great example of the severity of Roman disci- 
 pline, and the greatness of military obedience. 
 He first ordered all the centurions, who had fled 
 or quitted their ranks, to be scourged, and then 
 beheaded J and then asking his soldiers where 
 were their arms, he chose out every tenth man, 
 by lot, and him he executed in the presence of 
 his trembling companions. Soldiers, with so 
 much ardour for liberty in times of peace, and 
 such profound submission to their generals in 
 war, were fitted to make the conquest of the 
 world. Appius, however, did not long continue 
 unmolested in his severity ; for some time after, 
 the tribunes pushed on the Agrarian law with 
 vigour, and he persisting in his opposition, they 
 appointed him a day to answer to an accusation 
 against him, of being the declared enemy of pub- 
 lic liberty. Appius obeyed, but appeared before
 
 110 THE HISTORY OF THE * 
 
 the people, not in the usual manner, in a suppli- 
 cating dress or posture, but spoke for himself with 
 a confidence, that a previous settled resolution 
 to die had inspired. The tribunes finding that 
 his innocence was too apparent to be impeached, 
 put off his trial to another day, which he pre- 
 vented by suicide, a practice that was now be- 
 coming common in Rome. 
 
 The death of Appius, and some wars or ra- 
 ther incursions made by the Romans into the 
 territories of the Volsci, suspended for a time 
 the people's earnestness after the Agrarian law ; 
 u. c. but soon after, the tribunes began new 
 2Sr2- commotions, and had the boldness to 
 assert that the people ought not only to have a 
 share in the lands, but also in the government 
 of the commonwealth, and that a code of writ- 
 ten laws should be compiled, to mark out the 
 bounds of their duty. The opposition to this 
 was not less violent on the side of the patricians j 
 who drove the clamorous multitude from the 
 Forum, headed by Caeso, the son of that Quin- 
 tius Cincinnatus, whom we shall hereafter find 
 so famous for his courage and his frugality. 
 The tribunes resolved to make an example of 
 this young patrician, to deter the future out- 
 rages of others, and therefore appointed him a 
 day to answer for his life before the people. 
 Being the son of a man entirely respected by 
 both parties, he was treated with such lenity, 
 that he was admitted to bail ; but flying to Etru- 
 ria, his father was obliged to sell almost his
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. Ill 
 
 whole estate to reimburse the sureties; and then 
 retreating to a small farm and a little cottage 
 beyond the Tiber, lived a contented life, tilling 
 his few acres with his own hands, and reaping 
 the produce of his industry. The tribunes, 
 however, were not satisfied with the expulsiou 
 of Caeso; they still continued to clamour for the 
 Agrarian law, and even raised a report, that the 
 senators had formed a plot against their lives. 
 This contrivance was principally intended to 
 frighten the senate into a compliance; but it 
 had only the more obvious effect of increasing 
 the tumults of the people, and aggravating their 
 animosity. 
 
 In this state of commotion and universal dis- 
 order, Rome was upon the point of falling into 
 the power of a foreign enemy. Herdonius, a 
 Sabine, a man of great intrepidity and ambition, 
 formed the design of seizing and plundering the 
 city while it was employed in intestine distrac- 
 tions. For this purpose, having got together an 
 army of about four thousand men, composed of 
 his clients and fugitive slaves, he sent them 
 down the river Tiber on floats by night, so that 
 the people were astonished the next morning, 
 to behold a foreign enemy in possession of the 
 Capitol, the citadel of Rome. Herdonius, on 
 his part, did all that was in his power to per- 
 suade the lower citizens and slaves to join his 
 party ; to the one he promised freedom, to the 
 other an ample participation of benefits and 
 spoil. The tribunes, in this e:§:igence, were far
 
 112 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 from exciting the people to arms; they, on the 
 contrary, used all their eloquence to persuade 
 them from fighting, until the patricians should 
 engage by oath, to create ten men, with a power 
 of making laws, and to suffer the people to have 
 an equal share in all the benefits that should ac- 
 crue. These conditions, though very severe, 
 the necessity of the times obliged the consuls to 
 promise ; and Valerius, who was one of them, 
 putting himself at the head of such as offered, 
 marched towards the Capitol, crying out as he 
 passed, " Whoever wishes to save his country'-, 
 *' let him come and follow me." A large body 
 of people followed him to the attack, and the 
 Capitol was at length retaken by storm, but the 
 consul was killed in the assault. Herdoniusslew 
 himself, the slaves died by the executioner, and 
 the rest were made prisoners of war. 
 
 But although the city was thus delivered from 
 a foreign invasion, it was by no means set free 
 from its intestine divisions. The tribunes now 
 pressed the surviving consul, for the performance, 
 of his promise; but it seems the Agrarian law 
 was a grant the senate could not think of giving 
 up to the people. The consul, therefore, made 
 many delays and excuses; till at length, being 
 driven to give a positive answer, he told them, 
 that as the promise was made by the two con- 
 suls, he could do nothing alone. An assembly 
 was therefore now appointed for choosing ano- 
 ther consul ; and the senate, in order to give the 
 people no hopes of obtaining their wishes, fixed
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 113 
 
 upon Quintius Cincinnatus, whose son had so 
 lately been obnoxious to them. Cincinnatus 
 had, as has been already related, for some time 
 ^iven up all the views of ambition, and retired 
 to his little farm, where the deputies of the 
 senate found him holding the plough, and dressed 
 in the mean attire of a labouring husbandman. 
 He appeared but little elevated with the ad- 
 dresses of ceremony, and the pompous habits 
 they brought him j and upon declaring to him 
 the senate's pleasure, he testified rather a con- 
 cern that his aid should be wanted: he natu- 
 rally preferred the charms of a country retire- 
 ment, to the fatiguing splendours of office, and 
 only said to his wife, as they were leading him 
 away, " I fear, my Attilia, that for this year 
 *' our little fields must remain unsown." Thus 
 taking a tender leave, he departed for the city, 
 where both parties were strongly inflamed 
 against each other. This new consul, however, 
 was resolved to side with neither, but by a strict 
 attention to the interests of his country, instead 
 of gaining the confidence of faction, to seize the 
 esteem of all. Thus by threats, and well-timed 
 submission, he prevailed upon the tribunes to 
 put off their law for a time, and carried himself 
 so as to be a terror to the multitude, whenever 
 they refused to enlist, and their greatest encou- 
 rager whenever their submission deserved it. His 
 policy consisted in holding the citizens who had 
 regained the Capitol, as still engaged to follow 
 him, by their oath, and threatening to lead them 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 into a winter encampment, to which they were 
 totally unaccustomed, in case they disobeyed; 
 by which he so far intimidated the tribunes, 
 that they gave up their law, upon condition of 
 his foregoing the threatened encampment : upon 
 the whole, he went through his office with such 
 skill, moderation, humanity, and justice, that 
 the people seemed to forget that they wanted 
 new laws, and the senate seemed to wish his 
 continuance in the consulship. Thus having 
 restored that tranquillity to the people, which he 
 60 much loved himself, he again gave up the 
 splendours of ambition, to enjoy it with a greater 
 relish in his little farm. 
 
 Cincinnatus was not long retired from his 
 office when a fresh exigence of the state once 
 more required his assistance. The iEqui and 
 the Volsci, who, though still worsted, still were 
 for renewing the war, made new inroads into 
 u.c. the territories of Rome. Minutius, one 
 295. of the consuls who succeeded Cincin- 
 natus, was sent to oppose them', but being natu- 
 rally timid, and rather more afraid of being con- 
 quered than desirous of victory, his army was 
 driven into a defile between two mountains, 
 from which, except through the enemy, there 
 was no egress. This, however, the ^qui had 
 the precaution to fortify, so that the Roman 
 army was so hemmed in on every side, that no- 
 thmg remained but submission to the enemy, 
 famine, or immediate death. Some knights, 
 who found means of getting away privately
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 115 
 
 through the enemy's camp, were the first that 
 brought the account of this disaster to Rome. 
 Nothing could exceed the consternation of all 
 ranks of people, when informed of it : the se- 
 nate, at fiirst, thought of the other consul, but 
 not having sufficient experience of his abilities> 
 they unanimously turned their eyes upon Cin- 
 cinnatus, and resolved to make him dictator. 
 Cincinnatus, the only person on whom Rome 
 could now place her whole dependence, was 
 found, as before, by the messengers of the 
 senate labouring in his little field, with cheer- 
 ful industry. He was at first astonished by 
 the ensigns of unbounded power, with which 
 the deputies came to invest him, but still more 
 at the approach of the senate, who came out 
 to meet him upon his approach. A dignity so 
 unlocked for, however, had no effect upon the 
 simplicity or the integrity of his manners: and 
 being now possessed of absolute power, and 
 called upon to nominate his master of the horse, 
 he chose a poor man named Tarquitius, one who, 
 like himself, despised riches when they led to 
 dishonour. Tarquitius was born of a patrician 
 family, but though of consummate bravery, never 
 being able to raise money to purchase a horse, 
 he had hitherto fought only as a foot soldier, 
 willing to serve his country, though in the hum- 
 blest situation. Thus the saving a great nation 
 was devolved upon a husbandman taken from 
 the plough, and an obscure sentinel found among 
 the dregs of the army. Upon entering the city, 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the dictator put on a serene look, and entreated 
 all those who were able to bear arms, to repair 
 before sun-set to the Campus Marti us (the place 
 where the levies were made) with necessary arms,^ 
 and provisions for five days. He put himself at 
 the head of these, and marching all night with 
 great expedition, he arrived before day within 
 sight of the enemy. Upon his approach, he 
 ordered his soldiers to raise a loud shout, to ap- 
 prise the consul's army of the relief that was at 
 hand. The iEqui were not a little amazed, when 
 they saw themselves between two enemies, but 
 still more, when they perceived Cincinnatus mak- 
 ing the strongest entrenchments beyond them, to 
 prevent their escape, and enclosing them as they 
 had enclosed the consul. To prevent this, a 
 furious combat ensued, but the ^Equi being at- 
 tacked on both sides, and unable to resist or fly, 
 begged a cessation of arms. They offered the 
 dictator his own terms; he gave them their lives, 
 but obliged them, in token of servitude, to pass 
 under the yoke, which was two spears set up- 
 right, and another across, in the form of a door, 
 beneath which the vanquished were to march. 
 Their captains and general he made prisoners of 
 war, being reserved to adorn his triumph. As 
 for the plunder of the enemies' camp, that he gave 
 entirely up to his own soldiers, without reserving 
 any part to himself, or permitting those of the 
 delivered army to have a share. Thus having 
 rescued a Roman army from inevitable destruc- 
 tion, having defeated a powerful enemy, having
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 117 
 
 taken and fortified their city, and still more, hav- 
 ing refused any part of the spoil, he resigned his 
 dictatorship, after having enjoyed it but fourteen 
 days. The senate would have enriched hitn, but 
 he declined their proffers, choosing to retire once 
 more to his farm and his cottage, content with 
 temperance and fame. 
 
 The year following, the ^qui resolving to re- 
 trieve their lost reputation, again marched u. c. 
 into the field, and retook their city; where- ,9>9G. 
 fore, u'hen levies were to be made in Rome to op- 
 pose their progress, the tribunes refused to let the 
 people be enrolled. The necessity of the times 
 however was such, that an army was to be raised ; 
 and the senators finding the reluctance of the 
 multitude, offered to go themselves, with their 
 clients and dependents. So many old and rever- 
 end men, who had long been considered as the 
 fathers of the state, marching feebly out to meet 
 an enemy, whom the young and the vigorous re- 
 fused to encounter, moved the multitude to such 
 a degree, that in spite of their demagogues, they 
 offered to go, only demanding as a recompence, 
 to have the number of the tribunes increased from 
 five to ten. This some of the senate considered 
 as an expedient to multiply the number of their 
 enemies; but Cincinnatus, whojudgedmore ma- 
 turely upon the subject, assured them, it would 
 be the most infallible means of debilitating that 
 power which had so long controlled them ; that 
 in case ten were elected, in such a number there 
 were the most just expectations to bring over a
 
 118 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 part, and that a single tribune could reverse 
 the resolutions of all the rest. Accordingly, the 
 senate readily came into his opinion, and pre- 
 tending to make their compliance a favour, in- 
 formed the tribunes, that they had, after much 
 deliberation, thought proper to grant their re- 
 quest. 
 
 This grant seemed^for a while to satisfy the 
 people ; but in less than a year, the new tribunes, 
 the first time, uniting all together, made still 
 farther encroachments, and ventured, even by 
 their own authority, to order an assembling of 
 the senate. They required also, that mount 
 Aventine, which being a mile and a half in 
 compass, and as yet untenanted, might be grant- 
 ed to the people to build on. With this, though 
 not till after the most violent contests, the se- 
 nate agreed, in hopes that it might be a means 
 of suppressing the seditions, which they dreaded 
 from refusing the Agrarian law. Nevertheless, 
 u. c. in this they were disappointed, for soon 
 298. after, their tribunes renewed their former 
 complaints and insolence, and the contests were 
 carried on with such little restraint, that blows 
 and not arguments generally terminated every 
 deliberation. To such a pitch of audaciousness 
 were they arrived, that those demagogues set a 
 day, even for the consuls themselves to answer 
 before the people. They thought proper, how- 
 ever, upon maturer consideration, to let drop 
 this insolent prosecution; but at the same time, 
 resolved not to discontinue their unremitting en-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. Il<> 
 
 deavours for the Agrarian law. A day accord- 
 ingly was fixed, in which this important subject 
 was to be discussed j and numbers of all ranks 
 were present, either to give their votes or their 
 opinions. The tribunes spoke largely on the 
 justice of such a law ; several of the people re- 
 lated what services they had done, and what 
 trifling rewards they had retained : the audience 
 were prepossessed in favour of the law, but still 
 more, when Siccius Dentatus, a plebeian, ad- 
 vanced in years, but of an admirable person and 
 military deportment, came forward to enumerate 
 his hardships and his merits. This old soldier 
 made no scruple of extolling the various a- 
 chievements of his youth, but indeed his merits 
 deserved his ostentation. He had served his 
 country in the wars forty years: he had been 
 an officer thirty, first a centurion, then a tri- 
 bune : he had fought one hundred and twenty 
 battles, in which, by the force of his single arm, 
 he had saved a multitude of lives: he had 
 gained fourteen civic, three mural, and eight 
 golden crowns, besides eighty-three chains, sixty 
 bracelets, eighteen gilt spears, and twenty-three 
 horse-trappings, whereof nine were for killing 
 his enemy in single combat; moreover, he- had 
 received forty-five wounds, all before and none 
 behind, particularly twelve on the day the Ca- 
 pitol was recovered from the enemy. These 
 were his honours ; yet notwithstanding all this 
 he had never received any share of those lands 
 which were won from the enemy, but continued
 
 120 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to draw on a life of poverty and contempt, while 
 others were possessed of those very territories 
 which his valour hcid won, without any merit to 
 deserve them, or even having contributed to the 
 conquest. A case of so much hardship had a 
 strong effect upon the multitude; they unani- 
 mously demanded, that the law might be passed, 
 and that such merit should not go unrewarded. It 
 was in vain that some of the senators rose up to 
 speak against it, their voices were drowned by 
 the cries o« the people. When reason therefore 
 could no longer be heard, passion as usual sue- : 
 ceeded, and the young patricians running furi- 
 ously into the throng, broke the ballotting urns, 
 and dispersed the multitude that offered to op- 
 pose them. For this they were some time after 
 fined by the tribunes; but their resolution, ne- 
 vertheless, for the present put off the Agrarian 
 law. 
 
 It generally happened in Rome, that internal 
 commotions were quieted by foreign invasions j 
 and the approach of the iEqui within sixteen 
 miles of the city, in some measure restored peace 
 to the republic. In this war Siccius Dentatus, 
 the veteran who had harangued the people* 
 gained greater honours than the consul who ob- 
 tained the victory: for being ordered upon a 
 forlorn hope, to attack the enemy in a quarter 
 where he knew they were inaccessible; he, at 
 first, remonstrated on the danger and desperation 
 of the attempt; but being reproached by the con- 
 sul with cowardice, he led on his body of eight
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 121 
 
 hundred veterans to the place, resolved to give, 
 by his death, a pattern of obedience, as he had 
 in his life, an example of resolution. Fortune, 
 however, was kinder to him than his expecta- 
 tions, for perceiving a passage into the enemy's 
 camp, which had not been pointed out by the 
 consul, he led his veterans onward, and while 
 the whole army amused the enemies on one side, 
 he attacked their camp on the other, so that the 
 Romans obtained a complete victory. Dentatus 
 however, being conscious that he was sent upon 
 this dangerous service, only to procure him 
 death or infamy, had interest enough, upon his 
 return, to prevent the consul's having a triumph, 
 as also to get himself created a tribune; like- 
 wise, to get a law passed for punishing such 
 magistrates as should for the future violate their 
 authority, and for having both consuls fined 
 for their behaviour to him in particular. Thus 
 the fortune, as well as the perseverance of the 
 tribunes, served to diminish the patrician power 
 every year. All their honours were now fading 
 fast away ; their very possessions, those fruits of 
 long labour, remained feebly in suspense, and 
 the next popular breeze threatened to shake 
 them down.
 
 1$2 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 From the Creation of the Decemviri to theExtinc-^ 
 tion of that Office. 
 
 u. c. The Commonwealth of Rome had now 
 302. for near sixty years been fluctuating be- 
 tween the contending orders that composed it; 
 till at length, each side, as if weary, were willing 
 to respire a while from the mutual exertions of 
 their claims. The Agrarian law seemed now 
 but little attended to; and all the animosity 
 which it had produced, appeared subsided. But 
 it has ever been with mankind, that they form 
 new desires, in proportion to the number of their 
 possessions. The citizens now, therefore, of every 
 rank, began to complain of the arbitrary deci- 
 sions of their magistrates, and wished to be 
 guided by a written body of laws, which when 
 known, might prevent wrongs as well as punish 
 them. In this, both the senate and the people 
 concurred, as hoping that such laws would; pufc 
 an end to the commotions that so long had ha^ 
 rassed the state. It was thereupon agreed, that 
 ambassadors should be sent to the Greek cities 
 in Italy, and to Athens, to bring home such 
 laws from thence, as by experience had been 
 found most equitable and useful. For this pur- 
 pose, three senators, Posthumius, Sulpicius, and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 123 
 
 Manlius, were fixed upon, and galleys assigned 
 to convoy them, agreeable to the majesty of the 
 Roman people. While they were upon this 
 commission abroad, a dreadful plague depopu- 
 lated the city at home, and supplied the interval 
 of their absence with other anxiety than that of 
 wishes for their return. In about a year, how- 
 ever, the plague ceased, and the ambassadors 
 returned, bringing home a body of laws, col- 
 lected from the most civilized states of Greece 
 and Italy, which being afterwards formed into 
 ten tables, and two more being added, made 
 that celebrated code, called the laws of the 
 twelve tables, many fragments of which remain 
 to this day. 
 
 The ambassadors were n© sooner returned, 
 than the tribunes required, that a body of men 
 should be chosen to digest their new laws into 
 proper form, and to give weight to the execu- 
 tion of them. After long debates whether this 
 choice should not be partly made from the peo-? 
 pie as well as the patricians, it was at last agreed 
 that ten of the principal senators should be 
 elected, whose power continuing for a year, 
 should be equal to that of kings and consuls, 
 and that without any appeal : that all other 
 magistrates should lay down their offices, until 
 the law should direct proper substitutes; and 
 that the new legislators should, in the mean 
 time, exercise their authority with all the ensigns 
 of their discontinued power. The persons chosen 
 were, Appius and Genutius, who had been elect-
 
 124 THE HISTOilY OF THE 
 
 ed consuls for the ensuing year, Posthumius, 
 Sulpicius, and Manlius, the three ambassadors, 
 Sextius and Romulus, former consuls, Julius, Ve- 
 turius, and Horatius, senators of the first consi- 
 deration. Thus the whole constitution of the 
 state at once took a new form; and a dreadful ex- 
 periment was going to be tried, of governing one 
 nation by laws formed from the manners and 
 customs of another. 
 
 The decemviri being now invested with ab- 
 solute power, agreed to take the reins of go- 
 vernment by turns, and that each should dis- 
 pense justice for a day. They agreed also, to 
 avoid envy, that he alone, who was in the actual 
 exercise of power, should be attended with the 
 ensigns of it; and that the rest should be only 
 preceded by a petty officer, called Accenisus, to 
 distinguish them from the vulgar. 
 
 The novelty of this form of government 
 seemed extremely pleasing to the people at first, 
 nor was the moderation of the decemviri them- 
 selves less praise-worthy. Appius, in particu- 
 lar, bore away the greatest share of popularity: 
 his affable air, his republican professions, and 
 his moderation, made them even forget his an- 
 cestors, or that they once trembled at the name. 
 These magistrates, for the first year, wrought 
 with extreme application : they had not only to 
 compile from a great variety of Greek laws, but 
 they were obliged also to get them interpreted 
 by one Hermodorus, an Ephesian, as they 
 themselves were ignorant of the language; a
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. ' 125 
 
 strong instance how little as yet the Romans 
 were advanced in the arts of politeness. At 
 length, however, by the help of their interpreter, 
 they formed a body of laws from those brought 
 from Greece, and from the ordinances of their 
 own kings, the whole comprised in ten tables. 
 These were agreed to by the whole people, en- 
 graven on plates of brass, and hung up in pub- 
 lic view, in the most conspicuous part of the 
 Forum. 
 
 Their work being thus finished, it was expect- 
 ed that the decemviri would be contented to 
 retire ; but having known the charms of power, 
 they were now unwilling to resign it: thej^- 
 therefore pretended, that some laws were yet 
 wanting to complete their design, and entreated 
 the senate for a continuance of their office. To 
 this they assented. The choice of persons was 
 next the object of public consideration. Ap- 
 pius, burning with a secret thirst of power, 
 feigned himself quite disgusted with the fatigues 
 of the office, and wished only for an able succes- 
 sor. However, underhand he contrived to put 
 all those popular arts in practice, which he knew 
 would, upon his standing a candidate, secure his 
 election. Accordingly, when the day came, 
 his colleagues were surprised to see him the first 
 upon the list of those who stood for the office ; 
 and still more, when they found him elected by 
 a great majority of the giddy people, who mis- 
 took his ambition for popularity. His friends 
 also were elected through his influence. Fa-
 
 126 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 bius, Cornelius, Servilius, Minucius, Antonius, 
 and Rabulius, who were patricians, together 
 with Petillius, Oppius, and Duellius, plebeians, 
 formed the second decemvirate. These three 
 last were chosen from among the people by 
 the interest of Appius; who, to ingratiate himself 
 with the multitude, observed, that it was very- 
 proper the people should have a share in form- 
 ing those laws, by which the people were to be 
 governed. 
 
 Appius being thus reinstated in his high of- 
 fice, now turned all his thoughts towards making 
 it formida,ble and perpetual : he therefore con- 
 vened his colleagues, and knowing them to be 
 all his creatures, he opened to them his design 
 of retaining the power, of which they had been 
 put in possession. As they had been previously 
 instructed, they readily came into his proposal; 
 and bound themselves by the most solemn vows, 
 never to dissent among themselvesi never to give 
 up their authority; and not to make use of the 
 opinions either of the senate or the people, 
 but in cases of downright necessity. Now, there- 
 fore, the decemvirate put on a very different ap- 
 pearance from the former year ; instead of only 
 one of them being attended by his rods and axes, 
 each made his appearance with those ensigns of 
 terror and authority. Instead of magistrates, 
 mild, just, and affable, the people now beheld 
 them converted into monsters of rapine, licen- 
 tiousness, and cruelty. They only made use of 
 the forms of justice, to put many of the citizens
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 1S7 
 
 to death, and deprive others of their estates and 
 country. Accusers and informers were suborned 
 from among their dependents, ready to give evi- 
 dence as they were commanded ; while those who 
 expected redress in any suit of justice, had no 
 prospect of success, but to enter into a cri- 
 minal confederacy with their judges. Thus an 
 universal corruption began to spread itself over 
 the people ; while the good and *the wise either 
 banished themselves from Rome, or inwardly re- 
 pined at its distress. 
 
 But as such power could not long continue 
 without some of the usual arts of deception, 
 which tyranny must sometimes stoop to, in order 
 to show the people, that they were not unmind- 
 ful of their duty, they added two tables more of 
 laws to those already promulgated, which toge- 
 ther formed, as we have already said, that body 
 of laws that goes by the name of the twelve ta- 
 bles. In these last there was a law, prohibiting 
 all marriages between the patricians and ple- 
 beians, by which they hoped to widen the breach 
 between these two orders, and thus avail them- 
 selves of their mutual animosity. Their designs, 
 however, were easily seen through ; but the peo- 
 ple bore them with patience, for the time of the 
 expiration of their office was now at hand, in 
 which it was expected they would lay down 
 their misused authority. But they soon threw 
 off the mask; and regardless either of the appro- 
 bation of the senate or the people, continued 
 themselves, against all order, another year in the
 
 128 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 decemvirate. A conduct so notorious produced 
 new discontents, and these were as sure to pro- 
 duce fresh acts of tyranny. The city was be- 
 come almost a desert, with respect to all who 
 had any thing to lose ; and the decemvirs* rapa- 
 city was then only discontinued, when they 
 wanted fresh objects to exercise it upon. In 
 this state of slavery, proscription, and mutual 
 distrust, not one citizen was found to strike for 
 his country's freedom ; these tyrants continued 
 to rule without control, being constantly guard- 
 ed, not with their lictors alone, but a numerous 
 crowd of dependents, clients, and even patri- 
 cians, whom their voices had confederated round 
 them. 
 
 In this gloomy situation of the state, the 
 -^qui and Volsci, those constant enemies of the 
 Romans, undertook their incursions, resolved to 
 profit by the intestine divisions of the people, 
 and advanced within about ten miles of Rome. 
 This was an unexpected stroke to the decemviri, 
 who had no authority to raise an army them- 
 selves, and, therefore, went reluctantly to ask aid 
 from the senate, whose deliberations had now 
 been long suspended. In this pressing juncture, 
 the senate was at last called together, where Ap- 
 pius, in a premeditated oration, propounded the 
 business for which they were convened. He 
 then desired that each should speak his senti- 
 ments as he named them ; but Valerius, the 
 grandson of Poplicola, rising out of his turn, was 
 ordered by the tyrant to sit down. Valerius,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROMfe. l^Q 
 
 however, would not desist, but violently inveigh- 
 ed against the tyranny of the decemvirate, a,nd 
 their effrontery in expecting that the senate, 
 whose power they had destroyed, should now 
 take measures to support their betrayers. His 
 speech was seconded by Marcus Horatius, who, 
 with still greater freedom, exposed their horrid 
 invasion of the rights of their country, their 
 outrages, their rapines, and their cruelty. Ap- 
 pius, at first, seemed to bear this harangue with 
 patience ; but at last, his passions, long used to 
 indulgence, could no longer keep within re- 
 straint; he flew out into violence, and threat- 
 ened to have Horatius thrown headlong from 
 the Tarpeian rock. All the senators exclaimed 
 against this infringement of the liberty of free 
 debate, as the highest breach of their privileges, 
 and an intolerable act of power. Whereat the 
 decemvir, a little repenting his rashness, began 
 to excuse himself, saying, that he was willing to 
 give liberty to all deliberations upon the ques- 
 tion, but could not bear an oration, which, 
 leaving the point in debate, only seemed calcu- 
 lated to promote sedition: that he and his col- 
 leagues had received an unlimited povver from 
 the people, till the great work of forming the 
 laws was finished, during which they were re- 
 solved to act to the extent of their power, and 
 then would be answerable for their administra- 
 tion. This was a sufficient display of their in- 
 tentions; all the uninfluenced part of the senate, 
 particularly Claudius, the uncle of Appius, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THK HISTORY OF THE 
 
 spoke with detestation of their proceedings 5 
 but a large party in the house, whom the de- 
 cemviri had previously formed, and still others 
 whom their fears had biassed, showed themselves 
 inclined to agree with Appius in whatever he 
 should propose. He therefore demanded, that 
 he and his colleagues should have a power of 
 levying and commanding the forces that were 
 to go against the vEqui, and immediately a de- 
 cree of the senate passed, confirming this pro- 
 posal. 
 
 The decemviri, now in possession of all the 
 military as well as of the civil power, divided 
 their army into three parts, whereof one conti- 
 nued with Appius in the city, to keep it under 
 awe; the other two were commanded by his 
 colleagues, and were led, one against the iEqui, 
 and the other against the Sabines. The Roman 
 soldiers had now got into a method of punishing 
 the generals whom they disliked, by suffering 
 themselves to be vanquished in the field. They 
 put it in practice upon this occasion, and shame- 
 fully abandoned their camp upon the approach 
 of the enemy. Never was the news of a victory 
 more joyfully received at Rome, than the tid- 
 ings of this defeat: the generals, as is always 
 the case, were blamed for the treachery of their 
 men ; some demanded that they should be de- 
 posed, others cried out for a dictator to lead the 
 troops to conquest ; but among the rest, old Sic- 
 cius Dentatus, the tribune, spoke his sentiments 
 with his usual openness, and, treating the gene-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 131 
 
 rals with contempt, showed all the faults of their 
 discipline in the camp, and their conduct in the 
 field. Appius, in the mean time, was not remiss 
 in observing the disposition of the people. Den- 
 tatus in particular was marked out for venge- 
 ance; and, under pretence of doing him parti- 
 cular honour, he was appointed legate, and put 
 at the head of the supplies which were sent from 
 Rome. The office of legate was held as sacred 
 among the Romans, as in it were united both 
 the authority of a general with the reverence of 
 the priesthood. Dentatus, no way suspecting 
 his design, went to the camp with alacrity, 
 where he was received with all the external 
 marks of respect. But the generals soon found 
 means of indulging their desire of revenge. He 
 was appointed at the head of a hundred men to 
 go and examine a more commodious place for 
 encampment, as he had very candidly assured 
 the commanders tnat their present situation 
 was wrong. The soldiers, however, who were 
 given as his attendants, were assassins, wretches 
 who had long been ministers to the vengeance of 
 the decemviri, and who now engaged to murder 
 him, though with all that terror which his repu- 
 tation, as he was called the Roman Achilles, 
 might be supposed to inspire. With these de- 
 signs they led him from the way into the hollow 
 bosom of a retired mountain, where they began 
 to set upon him from behind. Dentatus now 
 too late perceived the treachery of the decemviri, 
 and was resolved to sell his life as dearly as he 
 
 K 2
 
 132 THE HISTORY OF THE > 
 
 could ; he therefore put his back to a rock, and 
 defended himself against those who pressed most 
 closely. Though now grown old, he had still 
 the remains of his former valour, and killed no 
 less than fifteen of the assailants, and wounded 
 thirty with his own hand. The assassins now 
 therefore, terrified at his amazing bravery, shower- 
 ed in their javelins upon him at a distance, all 
 which he received in his shield with undaunted 
 resolution. The combat, though so unequal in 
 numbers, was managed for some time with 
 doubtful success ; till at length his assailants be- 
 thought themselves of ascending the rock against 
 which he stood, and thus poured down stones 
 upon him from above. This succeeded. The 
 old soldier fell beneath their united efforts, after 
 having shown by his death, that it was owing to 
 his fortitude, and not his fortune, he had come 
 off so many times victorious. The decemviri 
 pretended to join in the general sorrow for so 
 brave a man, and decreed him a funeral with the 
 first military honours : but the greatness of their 
 apparent distress, compared with their known 
 hatred, only rendered them still more detestable 
 to the people. However, a transaction still 
 more atrocious than the former, served to inspire 
 the citizens with resolution to break all measures 
 of obedience, and at last to restore freedom. 
 I Appius, who still remained at Rome, sitting 
 one day on his tribunal to dispense justice, saw 
 a maiden of exquisite beauty, and aged about 
 fifteen, passing to one of the public schools, at-?
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 1S3 
 
 tended by a matron, her nurse. The charms of 
 this damsel, heightened by all the innocence of 
 virgin modesty, caught his attention, and fired 
 his heart. * The day following, as she past, he 
 found her still more beautiful than before, and 
 his breast still more inflamed. He now therefore 
 resolved to obtain the gratification of his passion, 
 whatever should be the consequence, and found 
 means to inform himself of the virgin's name and 
 family. Her name was Virginia. She was the 
 daughter of Virginius, a centurion, then with 
 the army in the field, and had been contracted 
 to Icilius, formerly a tribune of the people, who 
 had agreed to marry her at the end of the present 
 campaign. Appius at first resolved to break 
 this match, and to espouse her himself j but the 
 laws of the twelve tables had forbidden the pa- 
 tricians to intermarry with the plebeians, and he 
 could not infringe these, as he was the enactor 
 of them. Nothing therefore remained but a 
 criminal enjoyment, which, as he was long used 
 to the indulgence of all his passions, he resolved 
 on. After having vainly tried to corrupt the 
 fidelity of her nurse, he had i ecourse to another 
 expedient still more guilty. He pitched upon 
 one Claudius, who had long been the minister of 
 his pleasure, to assert that the beautiful maid 
 was his slave, and to refer the cause to his tribu- 
 nal for decision. Claudius behaved exactly ac- 
 cording to his instructions; for entering into the 
 school, where Virginia was playing among her fe- 
 male companions, he seized upon her as his pro*
 
 134 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 perty, and was going to drag her away by force, 
 but was prevented by the people drawn together 
 by her cries. At length, however, after the first 
 heat of opposition was over, he led the weeping 
 virgin to the tribunal of Appius, and there plau- 
 sibly exposed his pretensions. He asserted that 
 she was born in his house, of a female slave, who 
 sold her to the wife of Virginius, who had been 
 barren : that he had several creditable evidences 
 to prove the truth of what he said; but that 
 until they could come together, it was but rea- 
 sonable that the slave should be delivered into 
 his custody, being her proper master. Appius 
 seemed to be struck with the justice of his claims; 
 he observed, that if the reputed father himself 
 were present, he might indeed be willing to de- 
 lay the delivery of the maiden for some time, 
 but that it was not lawful for him, in the pre- 
 sent case, to detain her from her lawful master. 
 He therefore adjudged her to Claudius as his 
 slave, to be kept by him till Virginius should be 
 able to prove his paternity. This sentence was 
 received with loud clamours and reproaches by 
 the multitude; the women in particular came 
 round the innocent Virginia, as if willing to pro- 
 tect her from her judge's fury, while Icilius, her 
 lover, boldly opposed the decree, and obliged 
 Claudius to take refuge under the tribunal of the 
 decemvir. Ail things now threatened an open 
 insurrection; when Appius, fearing the event, 
 thought proper to suspend his judgment till the 
 arrival of Virginius, who was then about eleven
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 135 
 
 miles from Rome, with the army. The day fol- 
 lowing, however, was fixed for the trial ; and in 
 the mean time, Appius sent letters to the generals 
 to confine Virginius, as his arrival in town might 
 only serve to kindle sedition among the people. 
 These letters, however, were intercepted by the 
 centurion's friends, who sent him down a full re- 
 lation of the design laid against the liberty and 
 the honour of his only daughter. Virginius upon 
 this, pretending the death of a near relation, got 
 permission to leave the camp, and flew to Rome, 
 inspired with indignation and revenge. Accord- 
 ingly, the next day he appeared before the tri- 
 bunal, to the astonishment of Appius, leading his 
 weeping daughter by the hand, both habited in 
 the deepest mourning. Claudius, the accuser, 
 was also there, and began by making his demand:' 
 he said, that it was well known, that the children 
 of slaves belonged to the masters of their parents, 
 and that Virginia was born in slavery. He ob- 
 served, that pity might be an inducement to 
 many to forego their claims, but that he would 
 sacrifice all lesser considerations to justice. He 
 then produced a female slave whom he had cor- 
 rupted, to swear that she had sold Virginia to the 
 wife of her reputed father; and he ended his pre- 
 tensions by asserting, that he could confirm her 
 testimony by that of many others, had it been 
 needful. Virginius next spoke in turn ; he re- 
 presented that his wife had many children, that 
 she had been seen pregnant by numbers; that if 
 he had intentions of adopting a supposititious
 
 136 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 child, he would have fixed upon a boy rather 
 than a girl ; that it was notorious to all, that his 
 wife had herself suckled her own child j and that 
 it was surprising such a claim should be now 
 revived, after a fifteen years' discontinuance. 
 While the father spoke this with a stern air, Vir- 
 ginia stood trembling by, and with looks of per- 
 suasive innocence, added weight to all his re- 
 monstrances. The people seemed entirely satis- 
 fied of the hardship of his case, till Appius fear- 
 ing what he said might have dangerous effects 
 upon the multitude, interrupted him, under a 
 pretence of being sufficiently instructed in the 
 merits of the cause. " Yes,** says he, " my 
 " conscience obliges me to declare, that I my- 
 ** self am a witness to the truth of the desposition 
 " of Claudius. Most of this assembly know that 
 " I was left guardian to this youth, and I was 
 " very early apprised, that he had a right to this 
 " young woman ; but the affairs of the public, 
 *^ and the dissensions of the people, then pre- 
 " vented my doing him justice. However, it is 
 " not now too late; and by the power vested in 
 " me for the public good, I adjudge Virginia to 
 " be the property of Claudius, the plaintiff. 
 •* Go, therefore, lictors, disperse the multitude, 
 " and make room for a master to repossess him- 
 *? self of his slave.** The lictors, in obedience to 
 his command, soon drove off the throng that 
 pressed round the tribunal; and now they seized 
 upon Virginia, and were delivering her up into 
 the hands of Claudius, when Virginiufc, who
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 157 
 
 found that all was over, seemed to acquiesce in 
 the sentence. He therefore mildly entreated 
 Appius to be permitted to take a last farewell of 
 her whom he had long considered as his child, 
 and that so satisfied, he would return to his duty 
 with fresh alacrity. With this the decemvir 
 complied, but upon condition, that their endear- 
 ments should pass in his presence. Virginius, 
 with the most poignant anguish, took his almost 
 expiring daughter in his arms ; he for a while 
 supported her head upon his breast, and wiped 
 away the tears that rolled down her lovely visage; 
 and happening to be near the shops that sur- 
 rounded the Forum, he snatched up a knife that 
 lay on the shambles, and addressing his daughter, 
 " My dearest, lost child," cried he, " this, this 
 " alone can preserve your honour and your free- 
 " dom." So saying, he buried the weapon in 
 her breast, and then holding it up reeking with 
 the blood of his daughter, "Appius," he cried, 
 " by this blood of innocence, I devote thy head 
 " to the infernal gods." Thus saying, with the 
 bloody knife in his hand, and threatening de- 
 struction to whosoever should oppose him, he 
 ran through the city wildly, calling upon the 
 people to strike for freedom, and from thence 
 went to the camp, in order to spread a similar 
 flame through the army. 
 
 He no sooner arrived at the camp, followed 
 by a number of his friends, but he informed the 
 army of all that was done, still holding the bloody 
 knife in his hand. He asked their pardon, and
 
 138 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the pardon of the gods, for having committed so 
 rash an action, but ascribed it all to the dreadful 
 necessity of the times. He implored them, by 
 that blood which was dearer to him than his own, 
 to redeem their sinking country, observing, that 
 no military oaths could bind them to their com- 
 manders, who were usurpers all of them, and 
 could pretend to no real authority. The army, 
 alre'ady predisposed, immediately with shouts 
 echoed their assent, and decamping, left their 
 generals behind, to take their station once more 
 upon mount Aventine, whither they had retired 
 about forty years before. The other army, 
 w^hicli had been to oppose the Sabines, seemed 
 to feel a similar resentment, and came over in 
 large parties to join them. 
 
 Appius, in the mean time, did all he could to 
 quell the disturbances in the city ; but finding the 
 tumult incapable of being controlled, and perceiv- 
 ing that his mortal enemies, Valerius and Hora- 
 tius, were the most active in opposition, he at 
 first attempted to find safety by flight; never- 
 theless, being encouraged by Oppius, who was 
 one of his colleagues, he ventured to assemble 
 the senate, and urged the punishment of all de- 
 serters. The senate, however, was far from 
 giving him the relief he sought for; they fore- 
 saw the dangers and miseries that threatened the 
 state, incase ofopposing the incensed army; they 
 therefore dispatched messengers to them, offer- 
 ing to restore their former mode of government, 
 to which the people joyfully assented, and re-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 139 
 
 turned to the city, if not with the ensigns, at 
 least with the pleasure of a triumphant army. 
 
 Thus ended the decern virate, after having con- 
 tinued somewhat less than three years. I have 
 given the picture of this administration, after the 
 Roman historians, aggravated with all the invec- 
 tives with which they usually load it. However, 
 if there be any part of their history in whicii 
 they show a manifest prejudice, it is here. The 
 charges against the decemviri, of rapine and mur- 
 der, are all, except one or two, merely general ; 
 and of these which are specified, the facts do not 
 seem equipollent to the accusation. However, 
 the limits I have assigned myself in this work, 
 are too short to permit a discussion of their vera- 
 city; and perhaps too it is our wisest way at this 
 distant period, to take the accounts as given us 
 by the historians of the time, and not to show an 
 affectation of sagacity, by attempting to new-state 
 an evidence which has been credited through 
 successive ages. All that may be observed is, 
 that the laws promulgated by this body of men, 
 were reckoned an admirable compilation, and 
 ever after, in Rome, and even in most parts of 
 Europe, even to this day, have continued among 
 lawyers to be of the greatest authority.
 
 140 ' THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER Xlir. 
 
 From the Expulsion of the Decemviri, to the Burn^ 
 ing of Rome by the Gauls. 
 
 u. c. The people, now freed from a yoke which 
 304. they had laid upon themselves, elected 
 Valerius and Horatius consuls for the ensuing 
 part of the year, and Virginius and Icilius of the 
 number of their tribunes. The punishment of 
 the decemviri was what first engaged the atten- 
 tion of these popular magistrates j and Appius 
 was appointed a day to answer the charges 
 brought against him of tyranny and murder. 
 Oppius, one of his colleagues, next to him in 
 guilt, was also arraigned, but both too well saw 
 what mercy they had to expect, either from 
 their judges, who were professed enemies, or 
 from the people, whose resentment they had but 
 too frequently incurred: they therefore resolved 
 to prevent that fury which they could not with- 
 stand, and both died by their own hands in pri- 
 son. The other eight went into voluntary exile; 
 and Claudius, the pretended master of Virgi- 
 nia, was driven out after them. Thus the venge- 
 ance of the tribunes pursued these devoted 
 men, and seemed as yet unsatisfied with punish- 
 ing. They were preparing to out-go those whom 
 they had deposed for cruelty in the very same 
 walks of rage ; and the senate began -to tremble
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 141 
 
 at seeing so many of their members devoted to 
 destruction. Duillius, however, one of the tri- 
 bunes, being more moderate than the rest of his 
 colleagues, quieted their fears, by openly profess- 
 ing, that no more blood should be shed on this 
 occasion; that sufficient vengeance had been 
 taken for the death of Virginia, and that he for- 
 bade all future prosecutions on that account. 
 
 This in some measure satisfied the senate for 
 the present, but they soon found cause of fresh 
 resentment. The two new consuls seemed en- 
 tirely to have abandoned the interests of the 
 patricians, and, equally popular with the tri- 
 bunes themselves, to study only the gratification 
 of the people. Th^y procured a law by which 
 each of the plebeians should, in his individual 
 capacity, have as much influence in all elections 
 and deliberations whatsoever, as any one of the 
 patricians; which gave the finishing blow to all 
 distinction between them. A law so injurious 
 to the power of the senate, produced, as may 
 be easily supposed, a desire to mortify the con- 
 suls, who only aimed at increasing their own 
 influence, by the depression of that body. An 
 opportunity for this soon oflered, for the con- 
 suls having marched against the JEqm and Sa- 
 bines, gained a complete victory, and demanded 
 a triumph. The senate, however, were resolved 
 not to comply, and declared them unworthy of 
 that honour. The consuls appealed to the peo- 
 ple, and complaining loudly against the senate, 
 procured a law for the privilege of a triumph.
 
 14a THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 by the authority of the plebeians alone. Thus 
 did the two orders of the state continue for some 
 years mutually opposing each other; the patri- 
 cians defending the small shadow of distinction 
 which they had left, and the people daily insist- 
 ing upon fresh concessions, as if their appetites 
 increased by what was granted to satisfy them. 
 
 In the mean time, these intestine tumults pro- 
 duced weakness within the state, and confidence 
 in the enemy abroad. The wars with the iEqui 
 and Volsci still continued; and as each year 
 some trifling advantages were obtained over the 
 Romans, they at last advanced so far, as to make 
 
 u. c. their incursions to the very walls of Rome. 
 
 309. But not the courage only of the Romans 
 seemed diminished by these contests, but their 
 other virtues also, particularly their justice. 
 About this time, the inhabitants of two neigh- 
 bouring cities, Ardea and Aricia, had a contest 
 between themselves, about some lands that had 
 long been claimed by both. At length being un- 
 able to agree, they referred it to the senate and 
 the people of Rome. The senate had yet some 
 of the principles of primitive justice remaining, 
 and refused to determine the dispute. But the 
 people readily undertook the decision ; and one 
 Scaptius, an old man, declaring that these very 
 lands of right belonged to Rome, they immediately 
 voted themselves to be the legal possessors, and 
 sent home the former litigants, thoroughly con- 
 vinced of their own folly and the Roman injustice. 
 The tribunes now grew more and more turbu-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 143 
 
 lent, and having come into a principal share in 
 the administration of government, nothing would 
 satisfy them without having a participation of 
 the whole. With these views they proposed 
 two laws, one to permit plebeians to intermarry 
 with patricians, and the other to permit them 
 to be admitted to the consulship also. The sena- 
 tors received these proposals with their accustom- 
 ed indignation, and seemed resolved to undergo 
 the utmost extremities rather than submit to 
 enacting them. However, finding their resistance 
 only increase the commotions of the state, they at 
 last consented to pass the law concerning mar- 
 riages, hoping that this concession would satisfy 
 the people. But they were to be appeased but for 
 a very short timej for returning to their old cus- 
 tom of refusing to enlist upon the approach of the 
 enemy, the consuls were forced to hold a private 
 conference with the chief of the senate, where af- 
 ter many debates Claudius proposed an expedi- 
 dient, as the most probable means of satisfying 
 the people in the present conjuncture. This was 
 by no means to contaminate the consulship by 
 suffering it to come into the hands of the people, 
 but to create six or eight governors in the room of 
 consuls, whereof one half at least should be patri- 
 cians. This project, which was but a poor sub- 
 terfuge, and was, in fact, granting what the peo- 
 ple demanded, pleased the whole meeting; and 
 that nothing might seem preconcerted among 
 them, they agreed, that at the next public meet- 
 ing of the senate, the consuls should, contrary to
 
 144 THE HISTORY OF TH£ 
 
 their usual custom, begin, by asking the opinion 
 of the youngest senator, whereas, formerly they 
 always began by asking that of the senior. 
 Upon assembling the senate, one of the tribunes 
 accused them of holding secret meetings, and 
 managing dangerous designs against the people. 
 The consuls, on the other hand, averred their 
 innocence, and, to demonstrate their sincerity, 
 gave any of the younger members of the house 
 leave to propound their opinions. These re- 
 maining silent, such of the older senators as 
 were known to be popular, began by observing, 
 that the people ought to be indulged in their 
 request, and that none so well deserved power, 
 as those who were most instrumental in gaining 
 it, and that the city could not be free until all 
 were reduced to perfect equality. Claudius, as 
 was agreed upon, spoke next, and though very 
 willing to advance the intentions of those who 
 spoke before him, in order to conceal his de- 
 signs, he broke out into bitter invectives against 
 the people, asserting, that it was his opinion, 
 that the law should not pass. This produced 
 some disturbance among the plebeians, but at 
 length Genutius, as if to moderate between the 
 senate and the people, proposed, as had been 
 preconcerted, that six governors should be an- 
 nually chosen, with consular authority, three 
 from the senate and three from the people ; and 
 that when the time of their magistracy should 
 be expired, then it would be seen, whether they 
 would have the same office continued, or whe-
 
 COMMON^yEALTH OF ROME. 145 
 
 ther the consulship should be established upon 
 its former footing. This project was eagerly 
 embraced by the people, because it promised 
 something new, and leave was given to any of 
 the plebeians to stand for this new office. Yet 
 so fickle were the multitude, that though many 
 of their own rank stood, yet none of them were 
 thought worthy of the honour, and the choice 
 wholly fell upon the patricians who offered 
 themselves as candidates. Thus a new form of 
 government was now to be tried, the peo- u. c. 
 pie still mistaking change for improve- 310. 
 ment. These new magistrates were called Mili- 
 tary Tribunes; they were at first but three, after- 
 wards they were increased to four, and at length 
 to six. They had the power and the ensigns of 
 consuls, yet their power being divided among a 
 number, each singly was of less authority. The 
 first that were chosen, only continued in their 
 officeabout three months, the augurs having found 
 something amiss intheceremoniesoftheir election. 
 The military tribunes being deposed, the con- 
 suls once more came into office; and in order to 
 lighten the weight of business which they were 
 obliged to sustain, a new office was elected, 
 namely that of Censors, who were to be chosen 
 every fifth year. Their business was to take 
 an estimate of the number and estates of the 
 people, and to distribute them into their proper 
 classes; to inspect into the lives and manners 
 of their fellow- citizens; to degrade senators for 
 misconduct; to dismount knights, and to turn 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE HISTORY OF TMIE 
 
 down plebeians from their tribes into an inferior, 
 in case of misdemeanor. The first two censors 
 were Papirius and Sempronius, both patricians; 
 and from this order they continued to be elected 
 for near a hundred years. 
 
 This new creation served to restore peace for 
 some time among the orders; and a triumph 
 gained over the Volscians by Geganius the con- 
 sul, addeU to the universal satisfaction that 
 reigned among the people. As it was said of 
 the Greeks, that a victory gained at the Olym- 
 pic games raised the conqueror to the highest 
 pitch of human splendour, so it might be said of 
 the Romans, that a triumph was the greatest 
 honour they had any idea of. For this their 
 generals fought, not less than for the benefit of 
 the state; the people also, when entertained with 
 such spectacles, forgot their private distresses in 
 an empty notion of their country's glory. 
 
 This calm, however, was but of short conti- 
 nuance; for some time after, a famine pressing 
 hard upon the poor, the usual complaints against 
 u. c. ^'^^ I'Jch were renewed, and these, as be- 
 313. fore, proving ineflectual, produced new 
 seditions. The consuls were accused of neglect, 
 in not having laid in proper quantities of corn; 
 they, however, disregarded the murmurs of the 
 populace, content with exerting all their care in 
 attempts to supply the pressing necessities. But 
 though they did all that could be expected from 
 active magistrates, in dividing and distributing 
 provisions to the poor; yet Spuriug Meelius, a
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 147 
 
 rich knight, who had purchased up all the corn 
 of Tuscany, by far outshone them in liberality. 
 This patrician, who had long beheld the strug- 
 gles of the state, was inflamed with a secret de- 
 sire of becoming powerful by its contentions : 
 he therefore distributed corn in great quantities 
 among the poorer sort each day, till at last, his 
 house became the asylum of all^uch as wished 
 to exchange a life of labour for one of lazy de- 
 pendence. When he had thus gained a suffi- 
 cient number of partizans, he procured large 
 quantities of arms to be purchased and brought 
 into his house by night, and formed a plan of 
 conspiracy, by which he was to be made com- 
 mander, while some of the tribunes, whom he 
 had found means to corrupt, were to act under 
 him, in seizing upon the liberties of his country. 
 Minucius, who was at that time appointed to 
 the care of providing for the people, soon dis- 
 covered the plot that was thus formed against 
 their freedom, and informing the senate thereof, 
 they immediately formed a resolution of creating 
 a dictator, who should have the power of quell- 
 ing the conspiracy, without appealing to the 
 people. Cincinnatus, who was now eighty 
 years old, was chosen once more to rescue his 
 country from impending danger. He began by 
 summoning Mselius to appear, who being, as 
 he thought, sufficiently supported by the multi- 
 tude, refused to obey. He next sent Ahala, 
 the master of his horse, to force him, who meet- 
 ing him in the Forum, and pressing Maelius t« 
 
 L 3
 
 14S THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 follow him to the dictator's tribunal, upon his 
 refusal, Ahala killed him upon the spot. The 
 dictator applauded the resolution of his officer, 
 and commanded the conspirator'^ goods to be 
 sold, and his house to be demolished, distributing 
 his stores among the people. 
 
 The tribunes of the people were much en- 
 raged at the death of Maelius ; and in order, in 
 some measure, to punish the senate at the next 
 election, instead of consuls, insisted upon restor- 
 u. c. '^ig their military tribunes. With this 
 315. the senate were obliged to comply; and 
 though the plebeians had a right of being taken 
 into the office, three patricians, as in the former 
 election, were again chosen. The next year, 
 however, the government returned to its ancient 
 channel, and consuls were chosen. 
 
 During these contests, the Veians and the 
 Volscians went on with their customary incur- 
 sions, and the very allies of Rome themselves 
 began to waver in their allegiance. Fidenae, 
 an ancient colony belonging to the Romans, 
 revolted to Tolumnius, king of the Veians, and, 
 still more to enhance their crime, murdered the 
 ambassadors that were sent to complain of the 
 infidelity. To punish this conduct with more 
 signal vengeance, a dictator was appointed, and 
 the choice fell upon Mamercus iEmilius. A 
 victory was obtained over the Veii, the king of 
 their nation was slain, and ^milius marched 
 back to Rome, with all the ensigns of triumph, 
 ennobled by the spoils of a king.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 149 
 
 It should seem now, as if the senate and con- 
 suls could carry on no business by their own au- 
 thority alone, since we find them, the year fol- 
 lowing, creating another dictator, to oppose a 
 threatened confederacy of the Veian nations. 
 Servilius Prisons was chosen to this high office. 
 The year succeeding, we read of ^Emilius, who 
 had been dictator so lately before, being again 
 chosen. He having no employment abroad, 
 was resolved to do something at home, and ac- 
 cordingly caused the censorship, which had 
 been before appointed to continue eight years, 
 to be held but for one year and a half, for 
 which the censors soon after fined and degraded 
 him, upon laying down his office. This con- 
 duct of theirs, on the other hand, enraged 
 the people, and instead of consuls, military tri- 
 bunes were the next time chosen. In u. c. 
 about four years after, consuls were intro- 320. 
 duced again, and upon a threatened invasion of 
 the ^qui,adictator,PosthumiusTubero, was cre- 
 ated, who closed his dictatorship with a triumph. 
 Four years after this, the fluctuation of counsels 
 brought up military tribunes again, and u. c. 
 their want of success in war, obliged the 3^6. 
 people to create ^milius, for the third time, dic- 
 tator, whogained anothertriumph. Fortwo years 
 after this, military tribunes continued ^ then con- 
 suls, and then tribunes again: thus the state con- 
 tinued to fluctuate between the different orders, for 
 more than fifteen years, during which time there 
 was but little of any thing important transacted, 
 either abroad or at home ; the senate seemed to
 
 150 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 have lost all its authority, and the people all their 
 military virtue. The former, who were possessed 
 oftherichesofthestate,seemed willing tograntall 
 their privileges, in order to secure their property 
 from the Agrarian law; and the people employed 
 so much time in attending the harangues of their 
 tribunes, that they became poor, discontented, and 
 noisy. Whenever the approach of an enemy was 
 talked of, thedanger was so magnified, by either the 
 fears or the real weakness of the state, that no- 
 thing but that desperate method of choosing a 
 dictator could be found to oppose it. So that 
 in a period of twenty years, we find the people 
 above ten times giving up their liberty, their pos- 
 sessions, and their lives, to one of their fellow-ci- 
 .tizens, and only indebted for their safety to his 
 still remaining virtue. Thus after jiEmilius, Ser- 
 vilius Prisons was again chosen, whom we have 
 mentioned as thrice dictator before, and after 
 u. c. him Cornelius Cossus. These absolute 
 335. magistrates, it is true, in some measure 
 345. restored discipline to the army, and in- 
 creased the territories of the state: but it was 
 purchasing conquest too dear, to give up all that 
 ■was valuable in life to obtain it. The ill effects 
 indeed of their absolute authority, were not dis- 
 covered till many years after; at present, the 
 senate seemed pleased with electing a magistrate 
 out of their own body, who could intimidate the 
 people : the multitude, on the other hand, were 
 proud to follow and obey one who generally led 
 them to conquest and plunder; for the dictators 
 usually divided the spoils of the conquered towns
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROMK. 151 
 
 among them, in order to increase their own po- 
 pularity. Thus the plunder of Anxur, a city 
 taken from the Volscians, seemed to diffuse a 
 new spirit amongst them, which however conti- 
 nued no longer than until their necessities called 
 for a new supply. 
 
 Things continued in this state of commotion 
 for a long time, factions becoming eve'ry day 
 stronger, and the government weaker ; the tri- 
 bunes of the people still augmenting the breach 
 between the orders of the commonwealth, and 
 calling their licentiousness liberty. At length, 
 however, the senate hit upon an expedient, which 
 served greatly to increase their own power, and, 
 at the same time, highly pleasing to the people, 
 though it must be owned, it served to show how 
 greatly the Romans were fallen from their former 
 virtues. The citizens who went to the field, had 
 hitherto fought their country's battles for no^ 
 thing; they were husbandmen and soldiers; the 
 same hands that drew the sword in one season, 
 were seen holding the plough in another, and they 
 were obliged to furnish" not only their own arms, 
 but their own provisions, during the campaign. 
 In these difficulties, however, they cheerfully 
 acquiesced, as the hopes of plunder, and the 
 honours of returning in triumph, were consider- 
 ed as an ample compensation. Nevertheless, it 
 sometimes fell out, that if the campaign was of 
 long continuance, their little farms remained un- 
 tilled, and they themselves were reduced the next 
 season to extreme indigence. Hence they were
 
 152 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 obliged to incur debts, and hence proceeded that 
 various train of extortions, usuries, and petty 
 cruelties, which the creditors made use of to op- 
 press the people. To remedy these evils, the 
 senate unanimously came to a resolution of pay- 
 ing the soldiery out of the treasury ; and for this 
 purpose they laid on a new tax, from which none 
 of the citizens' were to be exempted. This regu- 
 lation, in some measure, gave a new turn to the 
 Roman method of making war; as what might 
 before have been called incursions, were now be- 
 come regular, lengthened campaigns. The se- 
 nate was now no longer to be obliged to the tri- 
 bunes in order to raise an army, as the people 
 would gladly enlist, since they were sure of their 
 reward. Nothing therefore could exceed their 
 joy upon this occasion; they surrounded the 
 senate-house with acclamations, they offered to 
 follow their conscript fathers wherever they 
 should lead them, and promised never to mur- 
 mur more. 
 
 The senate thus reconciled to the people, and 
 now become masters of an army that they could 
 keep in the field as long as they thought proper, 
 resolved to take signal vengeance of the Veians, 
 and beseige their capital city, though the attempt 
 should endanger their own. The city of Veii 
 had long been a flourishing, strong, and formid- 
 able place : it was seated upon a craggy rock, 
 and furnished with resolute and numerous de- 
 fenders. It had lately changed its form of go- 
 vernment, from republican into that of kingly ;
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. ISS 
 
 and such a change being disliked by the allies 
 of this state, this contributed, in some measure, 
 to their tamely suffering it to be surrounded by 
 the Roman army. The Romans, indeed, had 
 every reason to inspire them with resentment. 
 The Veians had long been the rivals of Rome s 
 they had ever taken the opportunity of its inter- 
 nal distresses to ravage its territories, and had 
 even treated its ambassadors, sent to complain 
 of these injuries, with outrage. It seemed now 
 therefore determined, that Veii, whatever it 
 should cost, was to fall, and the Romans accord- 
 ingly sat regularly down before it, prepared for 
 a long and painful resistance. The strength of 
 the place may be inferred from the continuance 
 of the siege, which lasted for ten years, during 
 which time, the army continued encamped round 
 it, lying, in winter, under tents made of the skins 
 of beasts, and in summer driving on the opera- 
 tions of the attack. Various was the success, 
 and many were the commanders that directed 
 the siege ; sometimes all the besieger's works 
 were destroyed, and many of their men cut off 
 by sallies from the town ; sometimes they were 
 annoyed by an army of Veians, who attempted 
 to bring assistance from without. A siege so 
 bloody, seemed to threaten depopulation to Rome 
 itself, by draining its forces continually away; 
 so that a law was obliged to be made, for all the 
 bachelors to marry the widows of the soldiers 
 who were slain. The tribunes of the people also 
 did not fail to render this great undertaking still
 
 1.54 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 more arduous, by their continual murmurs, and 
 skill in raising dissensions at home. They blamed 
 the commanders, and prohibited the taxes from 
 being raised which were to pay the soldiery ; 
 and, still more to perplex the senate, they began 
 to make new proposals for passing the Agrarian 
 law. Such dissensions among the Romans, and 
 so much obstinacy on the part of the Veii, began 
 to depress the sanguine expectations of the se- 
 nate ; they trembled for the consequences of so 
 much blood and treasure expended in an inef- 
 fectual siege; therefore willing to strike one vigo- 
 rous blow before relinquishing theirfavourite aim, 
 they created Furius Camillus dictator, and to him 
 was intrusted the sole power of managing the 
 long protracted war. Camillus was a man 
 who, without intrigue or any solicitation, had 
 raised himself to the first eminence in the state; 
 he had been made one of the censors some time 
 before, and was considered as the head of that 
 office ; he was afterwards made a military tri- 
 bune, and had in this post gained several advan- 
 tages over the enemy. It was his great courage 
 and abilities in the above offices, that made him 
 thought most worthy to serve his country on this 
 pressing occasion. Upon his appointment, num- 
 bers of the people flocked to his standard, con- 
 fident of success under so experienced a com- 
 mander. He accordingly drew out his forces 
 against the enemy, and overthrew the Falisci, 
 one of the little powers confederated against 
 Rome, with great slaughter; the Capenates also
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 155 
 
 shared the same fate, and were obliged to beg 
 protection ; wherefore, being thus master of the 
 field, he turned all his force to prosecute the 
 siege of Veii with vigour. Conscious, however^ 
 that he was unable to take the city by storm, he 
 secretly wrought a mine into it, with vast la- 
 bour, which opened into the midst of the citadel. 
 Certain thus of success, and finding the city in- 
 capable of relief, he sent to the senate, desiring 
 that all who chose to share in the plunder of 
 Veii, should immediately repair to the army. 
 Then giving his men directions how to enter at 
 the breach, the city was instantly filled with his 
 legions, to the amazement and consternation of 
 the besieged, who but a moment before had rest- 
 ed in perfect security. Thus, like a second Troy, 
 was the city of Veii taken, after a ten years' siege, 
 and with its spoils enriched the conquerors, while 
 Camillus himself, transported vvith the honour of 
 having subdued the rival of his native city, tri- 
 umphed after the manner of the kings of Rome, 
 halving his chariot drawn by four milk-white 
 horses; a distinction which did not fail to disgust 
 the majority of the spectators, as they considered 
 those emblems as sacred, and more proper for 
 doing honour to tlieir gods, than their generals. 
 The people soon after pretended to find still 
 greater cause of offence. Their tribunes had 
 proposed, that the senate and people should di- 
 vide into two parts, whereof one should continue 
 in Rome, the other should settle at Veii, their 
 new conquest. This, Camillus earnestly op-
 
 156 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 posed, and diverted the multitude from their in- 
 tention, though it procured their anger. Nor 
 were they less displeased with him soon after, 
 when they found themselves obliged to restore 
 the tenth part of the plunder they had taken^ 
 which, before the siege, he had devoted to Apollo. 
 The soldiers, for the most part, had spent theirs 
 long since, so that they would have been inca- 
 pable of refunding, had not the Roman women 
 parted with their golden ornaments, to the amount 
 of eight talents of gold, to supply them. For this 
 generous action, they were decreed the privilege 
 of having funeral orations pronounced over their 
 bodies, which had not been allowed to women 
 before. Camillus was rendered by this step still 
 more unpopular than before. 
 
 However, in the midst of this general dislike, 
 he was, sometime after, created one of the mili- 
 tary tribunes, and sent against the Falisci, who 
 had been making their accustomed incursions 
 upon the Roman territories. His usual good 
 fortune attended him in this expedition; he 
 routed their army, and besieged their capital 
 city Falerii, which threatened a long and vigo- 
 rous resistance. The reduction of this little 
 place would have been scarce worth mentioning 
 in this scanty page, were it not for an action of 
 the Roman general that has done him more cre- 
 dit with posterity than all his other triumphs 
 united. A school-master, who had the care of 
 the children belonging to the principal men of 
 the city, having found means to decoy them
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 15/ 
 
 into the Roman camp, offered to put them into 
 the hands of Camillus, as the surest means of 
 inducing the citizens to a speedy surrender. 
 The general was struck with the treachery of a 
 wretch, whose duty it was to protect innocence, 
 and not to betray it 5 he for some time regarded 
 the traitor with a stern air, but at last finding 
 words, " Execrable villain!** cried the noble Ro- 
 man, ** offer thy abominable proposals to crea- 
 " tures like thyself, and not to me : what though 
 " we be the enemies of your city, yet there are 
 ** natural ties that bind all mankind, which 
 " should never be broken; there are duties re- 
 " quired from us in war, as well as in peace : we 
 " fight now not against an age of innocence, but 
 " against men — men who have used us ill in- 
 *' deed, but yet, whose crimes are virtues, when 
 " compared to thine. Against such base arts, 
 " let it be my duty to use only Roman arts, the 
 " arts of valour and of arms." So saying, he 
 immediately ordered him to be stripped, his 
 hands tied behind him, and in that ignominious 
 manner, to be whipped into the town by his own 
 scholars. This generous behaviour in Camillus 
 effected more than his arms could do ; the magi- 
 strates of the town immediately submitted to the 
 senate, leaving to Camillus the conditions of 
 their surrender, who only fined them a sum of 
 money to satisfy his army, and received them 
 under the protection and into the alliance of 
 Rome. 
 
 Notwithstanding the veneration which the
 
 158 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 virtues of Camillus had excited abroad, thej 
 seemed but little adapted to bring over the re- 
 spect of the turbulent tribunes at home, as they 
 raised some fresh accusation against him every 
 day. To the charge of being an opposer of 
 their intended migration from Rome to Veii, 
 they added that of his having concealed a part 
 of the plunder of that city, particularly two bra- 
 zen gates for his own use, and appointed him a 
 day on which to appear before the people. 
 Camillus finding the multitude exasperated 
 against him upon many pretences, and detesting 
 their ingratitude, resolved not to wait the ig- 
 nominy of a trial, but embracing his wife and 
 children, prepared to depart from Rome. He 
 had already passed as far as one of the gates, 
 unattended on his way, and unlamented. There, 
 however, he could suppress his indignation no 
 longer, but turning his face to the Capitol, and 
 lifting up his hands to heaven, he entreated all 
 the gods, that his country might one day be sen- 
 sible of their injustice and ingratitude, and so 
 saying, he passed forward to take refuge at Ar- 
 dea, a town at a little distance from Rome, where 
 he afterwards learned, that he had been fined 
 iifteen hundred asses by the tribunes at Rome. , 
 The tribunes were not a little pleased with 
 their triumph over this great man; but they soon 
 had reason to repent their injustice, and to wish 
 for the assistance of one, who alone was able to 
 protect their country from ruin. For now a 
 more terrible and redoubtable enemy began to
 
 COMMONWEALTH 01^" ROME. 159 
 
 make its appearance than the Romans had ever 
 yet encountered : the Gauls, a barbarous nation, 
 had about two centuries before made an irrup- 
 tion from beyond the Alps, and settled in the 
 northern parts of Italy. They had been invited 
 over by the deliciousness of the wines, and the 
 softness of the climate. Wherever they came, 
 they dispossessed the original inhabitants, being 
 men of extraordinary stature, fierce in aspect, 
 barbarous in their manners, and prone to emi- 
 gration. Not content with having subdued and 
 peopled most of the northern parts of Italy, they 
 were still inviting others from their native deserts 
 bej'ond the Alps, to come over and spread ter- 
 ror and desolation in the fruitful regions of this 
 new-discovered country, A body of these, wild 
 from their original habitations, were now be- 
 sieging Clusium, a city of Etruria, under the 
 conduct of Brennus, their king. The inhabitants 
 of Clusium, frightened at their numbers, and still 
 more at their savage appearance, entreated the 
 assistance, or at least the mediation, of the Ro- 
 mans. The senate, who long had made it a 
 maxim never to refuse succour to the distressed, 
 were willing previously to send ambassadors to 
 the Gauls, to dissuade them from their enter- 
 prise, and to show the injustice of their irruption. 
 Accordingly, three young senators were chosen 
 out of the family of the Fabii, to manage the 
 commission, who seemed rather fitter for the 
 field than the cabinet. * Brennus received them 
 with a degree of complaisance, that argued but
 
 160 THE HISTORY Of THE 
 
 little of the barbarian, and desiring to know the 
 business of their embassy, was answered accord- 
 ing to their instructions, that it was not cus- 
 tomary in Italy to make war but upon just 
 grounds of provocation, and that they desired to 
 know what offence the citizens of Clusium had 
 given to the king of the Gauls ? To this Brennus 
 sternly replied, that the rights of valiant men lay 
 in their swords; that the Romans themselves had 
 no other right to the many cities they had con- 
 quered; and that he had particular reasons of 
 resentment against the people of Clusium, as 
 they refused to part with those lands which 
 they had neither hands to till nor inhabitants to 
 occupy. The Roman ambassadors, who were 
 but little used to bear the language of a con- 
 queror, for a while dissembled their resentment 
 at this haughty reply, but, upon entering the be- 
 sieged city, instead of acting as ambassadors, 
 forgetful of their sacred characters they headed 
 the citizens in a sally against the besiegers. In 
 this combat, Fabius Ambustus killed a Gaul 
 with his own hand, but was discovered while 
 he was despoiling him of his armour. A con- 
 duct so unjust and unbecoming, excited the 
 resentment of Brennus, who having made his 
 complaint, by a herald, to the senate, and find- 
 ing no redress, immediately broke up the siege 
 and marched away with his conquering army 
 directly to Rome. 
 
 The countries through which the Gauls passed, 
 jn their rapid progress, gave up all hopes of
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. l6l 
 
 safety upon their approach, being terrified at 
 their vast numbers, the fierceness of their na- 
 tures, ancl their dreadful preparations for war. 
 But the rage and impetuosity of this wild peo- 
 ple were directed only against Rome. They 
 went on without doing the least injury in their 
 march, still breathing vengeance only against the 
 Romans. 
 
 Six military tribunes at that time commanded 
 the Roman army : the number of their forces, 
 which amounted to forty thousand men, was 
 nearly equal to those of Brennus; but the sol- 
 diers were less obedient, and the generals had 
 neither subordination to assist, nor confidence to 
 unite, each other. The two armies met beside 
 the river AUia, eleven miles from the city, both 
 equally confident of victory, both equally dread- 
 ing to survive a defeat. The leaders on either 
 side put their forces in array j the Romans, to 
 prevent being surrounded, extended their lines, 
 and placed their best legions in the wings of 
 their army. The Gauls, on the other hand, by 
 a happy disposition, had their choicest men 
 in the middle, and with these they made the 
 most desperate attack. The centre of the Ro- 
 man army, unable to withstand the impetuosity 
 of the charge, quickly gave way, while the two 
 wings saw themselves in a manner divided from 
 each other, and their centre occupied by the 
 enemy. They made, for a time, a feeble at- 
 tempt to join each other, but finding it imprac- 
 ticable, a rout ensued, in which the Romans 
 
 VOL. I, M
 
 162 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 seemed to have lost all power, not only of resist. 
 ance, but of flight. Nothing but terror and blind 
 confusion reigned through their scattered troops ; 
 the wretched remains of their army, either were 
 drowned in attempting to cross over the Tiber, 
 or went to take refuge in Veii, while a few of 
 them returned to Rome, with the dreadful ac- 
 count of their country's overthrow. All hopes 
 being now over, the few remaining inhabitants 
 that were able to bear arms threw themselves 
 into the Capitol, which they fortified, in order 
 to hold out a siege. The rest of the people, a 
 poor, helpless multitude of old men, women, and 
 children, endeavoured to hide themselves in 
 some of the neighbouring towns, or resolved to 
 await the conqueror's fury, and end their lives 
 with the ruin of their native city. But more 
 particularly, the ancient senators and priests, 
 struck with a religious enthusiasm, on this occa- 
 sion resolved to devote their lives to atone for 
 the crimes of the people, and habited in their 
 robes of ceremony placed themselves in the 
 Forum, on their ivory chairs. The Gauls, in 
 the mean time, were giving a loose to their 
 triumph, in sharing and enjoying the plunder 
 of the enemy's camp : had they immediately 
 marched to Rome upon gaining the victory, the 
 Capitol itself had been taken ; but they con- 
 tinued two days feasting upon the field of battle, 
 and, with barbarous pleasure, exulting amidst 
 their slaughtered enemies. On the third day 
 after the victory, the easiness of which much
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. ]65 
 
 amazed the Gauls, Brenniis appeared with all 
 his forces before the city. He was at first much 
 surprised to find the gates wide open to receive 
 him, and the walls defenceless, so that he began 
 to impute the unguarded situation of the place 
 to a stratagem of the Romans. After proper 
 precautions, however, he entered the city, and 
 marching into the Forum, there beheld the an- 
 cient senators sitting in their order, observing 
 a profound silence, unmoved and undaunted. 
 The splendid habits, the majestic gravity, and 
 the venerable looks of these old men, who had 
 all, in their time, borne the highest offices of the 
 state, awed the barbarous enemy into reverence; 
 they took them to be the tutelar deities of the 
 place, and began to offer blind adoration; till one, 
 more forward than the rest, put forth his hand 
 to stroke the beard of Papirius, whom we have 
 already seen enjoying the dignity of dictator. 
 This insult the noble Roman could not endure, 
 but lifting up his ivory sceptre, struck the sa- 
 vage to the ground. This seemed as a signal 
 for general slaughter. Papirius fell first, and all 
 the rest shared his fate, without mercy or dis- 
 tinction. Thus the fierce invaders pursued their 
 slaughter for three days successively, sparing 
 fieither sex nor age, and then setting fire to the 
 city, burnt down every house to the ground. 
 
 All the hopes of Rome were now placed u. c. 
 in the Capitol, every thing without that 364. 
 fortress was but an extensive scene of misery, 
 desolation, and despair. All the magnificent 
 
 M 21
 
 164 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 buildings, which were once the pride of Rome, 
 were now become a heap of shapeless ruin. 
 Nor was it the city alone that felt the utmost 
 rage of the conquerors, but all the neighbouring 
 towns that were accessible to their incursion 
 shared the same fate, and were burnt without 
 compassion. Still, however, the citadel remain- 
 ed, and Brennus tried every art to reduce it into 
 his power; he first summoned it, with threats, 
 to surrender, but in vain; he then resolved to be- 
 siege it in form, and hemmed it round with his 
 .army. The Romans, however, repelled his at- 
 tempts with great bravery; despair had supplied 
 them with that perseverance and vigour, which 
 they seemed to want when in prosperity. 
 
 The siege had now continued for above six 
 months, the provisions of the garrison were al- 
 most exhausted, their numbers lessened with 
 continual fatigue, and nothing seemed to remain 
 but death, or submitting to the mercy of the 
 conquerors, which was ^worse even than death 
 itself. They had resolved upon dying, when 
 they were revived from their despondence by the 
 appearance of a man whom they saw climbing 
 up the rock, and whom they knew upon his ar- 
 rival to be a messenger from their friends abroad. 
 This messenger's name was Pontius Comminus, 
 who had swam across the Tiber by night, 
 passed through the enemies* guards, and with ex- 
 treme fatigue climbed up the Capitoline rock, 
 with tidings to the besieged, that Camillus, their 
 old dictator, was levying an army for their reiiefj
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. l65 
 
 that he had already surprised a body of the 
 Gauls in one of their excursions, and had cut 
 them off to a man ; that the citizens of Ardea 
 and Veii had armed in his favour, and had made 
 him their general, and that he only awaited 
 their confirmation of the choice, to enter the 
 field and give the barbarians battle. The Ro- 
 mans were struck with a mixture of rapture and 
 confusion, to find that the man whom they had 
 formerly spurned from the city, was now, in its 
 desperate state, become its defender. They in- 
 stantly chose him for their dictator, and prepared 
 to sustain the siege with recruited vigour. Thus 
 the messenger having received his answer and 
 proper instructions, returned the way he came, 
 not without encountering the utmost difficul- 
 ties. 
 
 In the mean while, Brennus carried on the 
 siege with extreme ardour; he hoped in time to 
 starve the garrison into a capitulation ; but they, 
 sensible of his intent, although they were in ac- 
 tual want, caused several loaves to be thrown 
 into his camp, to convince him of the futility of 
 such expectations. His hopes failing in this, 
 were soon after revived, when some of his sol- 
 diers came to inform him, that they had disco- 
 vered some foot-steps which led up to the rock, 
 and by which they supposed the Capitol might 
 be surprised. Accordingly, a chosen body of his 
 men were ordered by night upon this dangerous 
 service, which they with great labour and diffi- 
 culty almost effected : they were now got upon
 
 166 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the very wall ; the Roman senti nel was fast asleep ; 
 theirdogs within gave no signal ; and all promised 
 an instant victory, when the garrison was awak- 
 ened by the gaggling of some sacred geese, that 
 had been kept in the temple of Juno. The be- 
 sieged soon perceived the imminence of their 
 danger, and each snatching the weapon he could 
 find, instantly ran to oppose the assailants. 
 Manlius, a patrician of acknowledged bravery, 
 was the first who exerted all his strength, and 
 inspired courage by his example. He boldly 
 mounted the rampart, and at one effort threw 
 two Gauls headlong down the precipice : others 
 soon came in to his assistance, and the walls were 
 cleared of the enemy, in a space of time shorter 
 than the description. 
 
 From this time forward, the hopes of the bar- 
 barians began to decline, and Brennus wished 
 for an opportunity of raising the siege with cre- 
 dit. His soldiers had often conferences with the 
 besieged while upon duty, and the proposals for 
 an accommodation were wished for by the com- 
 mon men, before the chiefs thoughtof a congress. 
 At length the commanders on both sides came 
 to an agreement, that the Gauls should immediate- 
 ly quit the city and territories of Rome, upon be- 
 ing paid a thousand pound weight of gold. This 
 agreement being confirmed by oath on either 
 side, the gold was brought forth, but upon weigh- 
 ing, the Gauls attempted fraudulently to kick 
 the beam, of which the Romans complaining, 
 Brennus insultingly cast his sword and belt into
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 167 
 
 the scale, crying out, that the only portion of the 
 vanquished was to suffer. By this reply, the 
 Romans saw that they were at the victor's naercy, 
 and knew it was vain to expostulate against 
 the conditions he should be pleased to impose. 
 But in this very juncture, and while they were 
 thus debating upon the payment, it was told 
 them, that Camillus, their dictator, was at the 
 head of a large army, hastening to their relief, 
 and entering the gates of Rome. Camillus ac- 
 cordingly appeared soon after, and entering 
 the place of controversy, with the air of one 
 who was resolved not to suffer imposition, he 
 demanded the cause of the contest, of which 
 being informed, he ordered the gold to be taken 
 and carried back to the Capitol ; " for it has 
 ** ever been," cried he, " the manner with us 
 " Romans to ransom our country, not with gold, 
 ** but with iron ; it is I only that am to make 
 ** peace, as being dictator of Rome, and my 
 ** sword alone shall purchase it." Upon this, a 
 battle ensued, in which the Gauls were entire- 
 ly routed, and such a slaughter followed, that the 
 Roman territories were soon cleared of their for- 
 midable invaders. 
 
 The enemy was now vanquished, but Rome 
 continued a heap of ruins; no part of its for- 
 mer magnificence remained, except the Capi- 
 tol, and the greatest number of its former inha- 
 bitants had gone to take refuge in Veii. The 
 tribunes of the people, therefore, these men un- 
 heard of but in the calm of peace, began once
 
 IGS . THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 more to urge for the removal of the poor remains^ 
 of Rome to Veii, where they might have houses 
 to shelter, and walls to defend them. On this • 
 occasion, Camillus was steady to his former 
 principles : he attempted to appease them, with * 
 all the arts of persuasion ; observing that it was 
 unworthy of them, both as Romans and as men, 
 to desert the venerable seat.s of their ancestors, 
 where they had been encouraged by repeated 
 marks of divine approbation, to remove to and 
 inhabit a city which they had conquered, and 
 which wanted even the good fortune of defend- 
 ing itself. By these and such-like remonstran- 
 ces, he prevailed upon the people to go content- 
 edly to work, and Rome soon began to rise from 
 its ashes, though with diminished beauty.. 
 
 These successes of Camillus were in some mea- 
 sure but preparatory to future victories. He was 
 made dictator the next year, upon an irruption of 
 the neighbouring states, and gained another tri- 
 u. c. umph J and about three year« after, over- , 
 369. threw the Latins, who had revolted from 
 Rome, after an obedience of more than a hundred 
 years' continuance. These successes served to 
 render Camillus almost absolute in Rome; his 
 moderation and patriotism, however, prevented 
 his making a wrong use of his power, unless we 
 may consider his conduct with regard to Man- 
 iius Capitolinus as an act of severity. 
 ''We have already seen the bravery of Manlius 
 in defending the Capitol, and saving the last 
 remains of Rome. For this the people were by
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. l69 
 
 no means ungrateful, having built him a house 
 near the place, where his valour was so con- 
 spicuous, and having appointed him a public 
 fund for his support. But his ambition was not 
 to be satisfied with such trifling rewards ; he still 
 aspired at being not only equal to Camillus, but 
 to be sovereign of Rome. With this view he la- 
 boured to ingratiate himself with the populace, 
 paid their debts, and railed at the patricians, 
 whom he called their oppressors. The senate 
 was not ignorant of his discourses or his designs, 
 and created Cornelius Cossus dictator, under pre- 
 text of sending him against the Volscians, who 
 had made some successful irruptions into the 
 Roman territories, but, in reality, with a view to 
 curb the ambition of Manlius. The dictator soon 
 finished his expedition against the foreign enemy 
 by a victory, and upon his return, called Man- 
 lius to an account, and put him in prison, 
 for his conduct at home. Manlius, however, 
 was too much the darling of the populace, 
 to be affected by the power of Cossus; his 
 partizans were too loud in their clamours, to 
 permit any injury to be done to their favourite. 
 Cossus was obhged to lay down his office, and 
 Manlius was carried from confinement intriumph. 
 This success only served to inflame his ambition. 
 He now began to talk of a division of the lands 
 among the people; he now insinuated, that there 
 should be no distmctions in the state, and to give 
 weight to his discourses, he always appeared at 
 the head of a large body of the dregs of the peo 
 pie, whom his largesses had made his followers.
 
 170 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The city being thus filled with sedition and cla- 
 mour, the senate were obliged to have recourse 
 to another expedient, and to oppose the power of 
 Camillus to his. Camillus accordingly being 
 made one of the military tribunes, appointed 
 Manlius aday to answer for his life. The place 
 in which he was tried was near the Capitol, 
 where, when he was accused of sedition, and 
 aspiring at sovereignty, he only turned his eyes 
 thither, and pointing, put them in mind of what 
 he had done for his country there. The multi- 
 tude, whose compassion or whose justice seldom 
 spring from rational motives, refused to condemn 
 him, while he pleaded in sight of the Capitol ; but 
 when he was brought from thence to the Peteline 
 grove, and where the Capitol was no longer to be 
 seen, they condemned him to be thrown headlong 
 from theTarpeian rock. Thus, the place which 
 had been the theatre of his glory, became that 
 of his punishment and infamy. His house, in 
 which his conspiracies had been secretly carried 
 on, was ordered to be razed to the ground, and 
 his family were forbid ever after to assume the 
 name of Manlius. 
 
 The death of Manlius in some measure re- 
 newed the murmurs of the tribunes and the 
 people against Camillus, whom they considered 
 as the chief instrument of his prosecution: ever 
 unwilling to suppose themselves guilty of a seve- 
 rity to which they had given their consent, they 
 began to turn their resentment upon the most 
 worthy man of the state, as if to aggravate their 
 baseness. However, Camillus was never, as it
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 171 
 
 should seem, to want an opportunity of bring- 
 ing them back to their veneration for him. Be- 
 ing chosen military tribune a sixth time, though 
 much against his consent, he, with his colleague 
 Lucius, marched against the Volscians ; Lucius, 
 all eagerness to engage the enemy, Camillus 
 tempering his courage with moderation. This 
 backwardness for the attack, Lucius ascribed 
 to the timidity of old age, or the envy of a man 
 unwilling to participate his fame; he therefore 
 took the opportunity, when Camillus was sick, 
 and obliged to keep his bed, to lead on his forces 
 to the attack. But he too soon perceived the 
 temerity of his conduct ; his army was almost de- 
 feated, and an universal flight was going to ensue, 
 when Camillus, roused from his bed, and being 
 helped on horseback, old and infirm as he was, 
 he put himself at the head of a small body of 
 men, opposing those that fled, and bringing them 
 once more furiously up against their pursuers* 
 The intrepidity of one man spread itself through 
 the whole army; his soldiers quickly rallied, re- 
 solving never to forsake a general, under whom 
 they had so often fought with victory. The 
 enemy being thus repulsed, the combat was re- 
 newed the day following, in which they were 
 totally defeated, and Camillus returned to Rome 
 once more loaded with the spoils of the conquest. 
 But conquests abroad seemed only new occasions 
 for dissensions at home, for the debtors began to 
 complain of their hardships as formerly, y. q^ 
 The inhabitants of Prasneste, a town b'^- 372. 
 longing to the Latins, also made incursions upon
 
 17S THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the Roman territories ; to quell these internal and 
 external grievances, Quintius Cincinnatus was 
 chosen dictator, who took Praeneste by surrender, 
 and returned in triumph with the statue of Ju- 
 piter Imperator, which he placed in the Capitol; 
 a circumstance, which, though of little seeming 
 importance, first excited the desire of extending 
 conquest among the Romans, 
 u. c. Two years after this, the contests be- 
 375. tween the patricians and tribunes broke 
 out with more than usual violence. Many of the 
 plebeians, during the distresses of their country, 
 had either by accident or courage acquired large 
 fortunes, and this produced a desire of sharing not 
 only in the government, but the honours of Rome. 
 The people, as we have seen, had before this as- 
 pired at the consulship, and the senate, as has been 
 related, by a trifling subterfuge, granted them mi- 
 litary tribunes, which were possessed of consular 
 power; but this it seems was not sufficient to sa- 
 tisfy their pride: the tribunes of the people now 
 therefore renewed their claims, while the poorer 
 part of the citizens, only intent upon acquiring 
 the necessaries of life, and but little touched with 
 its honours, were calm spectators of the contest: 
 they only wanted something to strike the imagi- 
 nation, in order to interest them in the cause, and 
 this at last offered. Fabius Ambustus, a tribune 
 of the people, had two daughters, one of whom 
 he married to a patrician, the other to a plebeian. 
 The plebeian's wife coming one day to visit her 
 sister, was struck with envy at the honours which 
 the latter received, in consequence of her patri-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 175 
 
 cian alliance, and from envying fell into a settled 
 melancholy. Her father and husband, for a long 
 time, conjured her to tell them the reasons of this 
 alteration in her disposition, which she at last 
 unwillingly revealed. The father, though him- 
 self a patrician, to comfort his daughter, was pre- 
 vailed upon to give her assurances, that he would 
 instantly use every means in his power to make 
 her an equal sharer in the dignities of the state 
 with her sister ; and not to be deficient in his pro- 
 mise, from that time consulted with her husband 
 about preferring a law, for making one consul 
 out of the body of the people. Their first step 
 was to get the husband elected a tribune of the 
 people; and then, in order to ingratiate them- 
 selves with the multitude, they proposed, with 
 the same law which made pretensions to the con- 
 sulship, that the Agrarian law, for the equal par- 
 tition of lands, should also be passed ; a measure, 
 which they knew, must give popularity to their 
 ambition. The contests in consequence of this 
 proposal were so violent, that for five years no 
 supreme magistrate was chosen, the tri- ^^ q^ 
 bunes of the people and sediles governing 377 
 ^all the time, if that might be called go- to 
 vernment, which was little better than ^^2. 
 anarchy and confusion. The military tribunes 
 then came into government, and after two years 
 were elapsed in this manner, Camillus was u. c. 
 chosen dictator, who finding the people 384. 
 resolute in their designs of choosing a plebeian 
 consul, laid down his office. Upon his resigna-
 
 174 THE HISTORY OP fHK 
 
 tion, another dictator was chosen by the senate 3 
 but this high office had been now so often created 
 where there was no absolute necessity, that its 
 authority began to decline, while that of the tri- 
 bunes rose upon its ruins. This dictator's name 
 was Manlius Capitolinus : he seems to have little 
 remarkable in his conduct, if we except his cre- 
 ating Licinius Stolo his master of the horse, who 
 was the first plebeian who enjoyed that dignity. 
 Stolo was the first also who caused a law to be 
 passed, that no man should possess above five 
 hundred acres of land, which was greatly disad- 
 vantageous to the patricians; but what is still 
 more particular, he was soon after found desirous 
 of privately possessing more land than by his 
 own law he was entitled to share, and in con- 
 sequence thereof was punished by his own 
 edict. 
 
 In this manner the flame of contention was 
 carried on between the two orders of the state, 
 with acrimony and perseverance, while foreign 
 enemies only served to allay, not to extinguish 
 it. Another invasion of the Gauls, to oppose 
 whom Camillus was a fifth time made dictator, 
 for a time repressed and gave a transient pause 
 to these internal commotions. The dread of this 
 people was so great among the Romans then, that 
 a law was made, that priests should be excused 
 from all wars, unless in an invasion of the Gauls. 
 However, Camillus taught his countrymen the 
 way to subdue them. Being sensible that the 
 chief weapon of this fierce people was the sword.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 175 
 
 he furnished his soldiers with iron helmets, and 
 had their targets bound round with brass, and at 
 the same time taught them the art of using their 
 own arms to the best advantage. By these 
 means he rendered the swords of the Gauls so 
 unserviceable, that giving them battle near the 
 river Anio, he gained an easy victory, so that the 
 Romans now began to despise the Gauls, and 
 wonder at their own pusillanimity. 
 
 A victory like this, it might be supposed, 
 would have rendered Camillus absolute at Rome. 
 But it seems that, whether from his advanced 
 age, or the increasing power of the tribunes, he 
 had by this time fallen even from the share of 
 authority he was once possessed of. The u. c. 
 law for creating a plebeian consul being 388. 
 still agitated with increasing animosity, the se- 
 nate as usual strongly opposed it, forbidding Ca- 
 millus to lay down his dictatorship, in hopes 
 that under the influence of his power, they might 
 be able to support their honour against the pre- 
 tensions of the people. In consequence of this, 
 while Camillus was one day sitting upon his tri- 
 bunal, dispatching public affairs, the tribunes 
 ordered, that the votes of the people should be 
 taken upon their favourite measure, and upon the 
 dictator's opposing, they sent a lictor to arrest 
 and conduct him to prison. Such a mark of in- 
 dignityoffered to a magistrate who had been hither- 
 to held sacred, raised a greater commotion than 
 had been hitherto seen in Rome. The patricians, 
 who stood round the dictator, boldly repulsed the 
 lictors, while the people who stood below, with
 
 I76 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 equal fury cried out, " Down with him, down 
 " with him." In this universal uproar, Camillus 
 was the only person that seemed unmoved. He 
 entreated that the tribunes would give a mo- 
 ment's pause to their attempts: then calling the 
 senators round him, and conducting them to a 
 neighbouring temple, he entreated them to give 
 peace to the city, by their compliance; then 
 turning his face towards the Capitol, as if to tak6 
 a last farewell of all future endeavours to serve 
 his country, he vowed to build a temple to Con- 
 cord in case he saw peace restored to the people. 
 In consequence of his advice, a law was made, 
 that one of the consuls, for the future, should be 
 chosen from the plebeians. Sextius, who had 
 long been a turbulent tribune of the people, 
 was the first plebeian consul that was chosen. 
 After him succeeded Licinius, the husband of 
 her whom we have already mentioned as lan- 
 guishing with the desire of dignity. There were 
 also, at this time, two new magistrates created 
 from among the patricians ; namely, a Praetor, 
 who was to supply the place of consul in the 
 absence of that magistrate, and to administer jus- 
 tice to the people in civil and criminal cases; 
 an officer so necessary to the state, that the 
 number of praetors was, in after ages, increased 
 to sixteen. There were also two Curule ^Ediles 
 created, officers so called to distinguish them from 
 the sediles of the people, the former having the 
 chair and other ensigns of magistracy attending 
 them, which the latter were denied. Their chief 
 business was to have the care of the great and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 17/ 
 
 public games, and of the corn and provisions 
 taken in war. Thus Camillus, having spent a 
 Jong life, being now above eighty, in the service 
 of his country, throughout which having shown 
 a courage not to be shaken by danger, and a pa- 
 triotism, which even the ingratitude of the peo- 
 ple could not alter, laid down the dictatorship, 
 and built a temple to Concord, according to his 
 vow, which, however^ he survived but two years, 
 dying of the plague, and leaving behind him 
 the reputation of being the second founder of 
 Rome. 
 
 It was in vain, however, that measures were 
 taken to ensure a lasting reconciliation between 
 the patricians and the people j their disputes re- 
 vived upon every occasion: for whenever new 
 magistrates were to be chosen, each party trying 
 all their interest to have the election in their 
 own favour, hesitated not to use both fraud and 
 violence to compass their desires. Thus the se- 
 nate suspended all measures against the foreign 
 enemy, lest the plebeian consul, newly elected, 
 should come in for a share of the glory. Thus 
 also the people soon after obtained, by their 
 complaints, to have the curule zediles chosen, 
 every second year, out of their own body, and 
 even at length prevailed tohaveMarcusRutilius, 
 a plebeian, made dictator. To balance this the 
 year following, the patricians took away u. c. 
 the consulship from the people, after they 389. 
 had enjoyed it ten years, and four years after 
 they were obliged to restore it. The election of 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 a censor produced equal animosity; and after 
 many contests, the plebeian, who had been dic- 
 tator, was elected to the office, against the united 
 endeavours of the patricians. 
 
 During these contests at home, however, we 
 are not to suppose that the Romans were un- 
 employed, or unsuccessful in their foreign wars* 
 They obtained a signal tictory over the Her- 
 u. c. nici, so that Claudius Crassinus, the dicta- 
 392. tor, had the honour of an ovation allowed 
 him by the senate. They obtained another over 
 v. c. the Gauls, and Q,uintus Pennus, the dicta* 
 39^. tor, returned with a triumph. Two suc- 
 ceeding victories were gained over the same 
 people by two different dictators, namely, Ser- 
 vilius Ahala, and Sulpicius Deticus, who both 
 triumphed in their turn. We read of two other 
 dictators, namely, ManliusTorquatus, and Caius 
 Julius, who being created without any great 
 necessity, did little, and consequently served to 
 lessen the authority of the dictatorship. We 
 read of a fourth triumph over the Gauls by Fu- 
 rius Camillus, who was created dictator to op- 
 pose them. The Arunci also, a people beyond 
 the Volsci, made some incursions, but were re- 
 pulsed by Camillus, who was created dictator a 
 second time for that purpose. 
 
 Nor were dictators created only for thus repel- 
 ling the sudden incursions of the enemy, but for 
 much more trifling purposes; in the time of a 
 plague we find one created, namely Manlius 
 Capitolinus, merely to drive a nail, as a means of
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. l79 
 
 putting a stop to the contagion. This unimpor- 
 tant business he executed with great ceremony, 
 driving it on the right side of Jupiter*s temple, 
 into the Capitol. Twocdictators also, were u. c. 
 successively chosen, merely to hold the 391. 
 Comitium or assembly of the people, for a new 
 election of consuls; Furius Camiilus and Man- 
 lius Torquatus being chosen for these unimport* 
 ant purposes. 
 
 In this manner, therefore, the Romans went 
 gradually forward, with a mixture of turbulence 
 and superstition wiihin their walls, and success-. 
 ful enterprises without. Their contentions at 
 home making their wars abroad less painful and 
 fatiguing, naturally produced in them a turn to 
 military glory. Their superstition also served as 
 a help to their progress, for when the bonds of 
 authority no longer prevailed, the priests were 
 always sure to hold the people by the ties of reli- 
 gion. What an implicit obedience they placed in 
 their pontiffs, we have already seen in many in- 
 stances, and how far they might be impelled, 
 even to encounter death itself, at their command, 
 will evidently appear from the behaviour u. c. 
 of Curtius, about this time, who, upon 392. 
 the opening of a gulf in the Forum, which the 
 gods indicated would never close up till the 
 most precious thing in Rome was thrown into it, 
 leaped with his horse and armour instantly into 
 the midst, saying, that nothing was more truly 
 valuable than patriotism and military viitue. 
 The gulf, say the historians, closed immedi- 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ately upon him, and he was never seen more. 
 Such a spirit of religion, and so many advantages 
 by following war, had extended their dominions 
 already above double what they were in the 
 times of the kings. However, their principal ac- 
 tions hitherto were against their nearest neigh- 
 bours, in which they chiefly acted upon the de- 
 fensive ; but we are shortly to behold another 
 scene, where their ambition catches fire, and is 
 not appeased, till the limits of the world itself 
 seems to put bounds to the conflagration. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 From the Wars of the Samnites and the Wars with 
 Pyrrhus to the beginning of the first Punic War 3 
 when the Romans first went out of Italy, 
 
 We are now come to that period, when all the 
 peculiar privileges of patricians were but an 
 empty name, and when wealth chiefly made dis- 
 tinction. The state has appeared hitherto an 
 obscure, unnoted commonwealth, formidable 
 only to the petty nations round it, and struggling 
 less for conquest, than self-preservation. But 
 the Romans having now triumphed over the 
 Sabines, the Etrurians, the Latins, the Hernici, 
 the iEqui, and the Volscians, began to look for
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 181 
 
 greater conquests. They accordingly turned 
 their arms against the Samnites, a people about 
 a hundred miles east from the city. 
 
 The Samnites were a hardy nation, descended 
 from the Sabines, inhabiting a large tract of 
 southern Italy, which at this day makes a con- 
 siderable part of the kingdom of Naples. They 
 were equally powerful, both in numbers and 
 discipline, with the Romans, and had like them 
 confederated states to assist them. Two such 
 aspiring neighbours, both equally fond of arms 
 and living by war, could not long want a pretext 
 for a rupture. The pretended occasion of this 
 was, that the Samnites had oppressed the Sidi- 
 cini, who being too weak to manage the war 
 alone, called in the Campanians to their assist- 
 ance, who also being overthrown, implored the 
 assistance of Rome. The senate for some time, 
 to give a colour of justice to their ambition, 
 seemed to defer granting aid against the Sam- 
 nites, as being their friends and allies : but the 
 importunate entreaties of the Campanian am- 
 bassadors, and the offers of the rich luxurious 
 country which they inhabited, and still more, 
 the refusal of the Samnites to desist from ravag- 
 ing a country which the Romans considered as 
 their own, determined them to undertake the 
 war. Valerius Corvus and Cornelius were the 
 two consuls to whose care it first fell to manage 
 this dreadful contention between rival states, that 
 for the space of sixty years after deluged Italy 
 with blood. Valerius was one of the greatest
 
 182 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 commanders in his time ; he was surnamed 
 Corvus, from a strange circumstance of being 
 assisted by a crow in a single combat, in which 
 he fought and killed a Gaul of a gigantic stature. 
 To his colleague's care it was consigned to lead 
 an army to Samnium, the enemies' capital, while 
 Corvus was sent to relieve Capua, the capital of 
 the Campanians. Never was captain more fitted 
 to his soldiers than he. To a habit naturally 
 robust and athletic, he joined the gentlest man- 
 ners ; he was the fiercest, and yet the most good- 
 natured man in the army; and while the mean- 
 est sentinel was his companion, no man kept 
 them more strictly to their duty ; but what com- 
 pletes his character, he constantly endeavoured 
 to preserve his dignities, by the same arts with 
 which he gained them. Such soldiers as the 
 Romans then were, hardened by their late adver- 
 sity, and led on by such a general, were uncon- 
 querable. The Samnites were the bravest men 
 they ever yet encountered, and the contention 
 between them was managed on both sides with 
 the most determined resolution. But the fortune 
 of Rome prevailed ; the Sanuiites at length fled, 
 averring that they were not able to withstand 
 the fierce looks and the fire-darting eyes of the 
 Romans. The other consul, however, was not 
 at first so fortunate, for having unwarily led his 
 army into a defile, he was in danger of being cut 
 off, had not Decius, a tribune in the army, pos- 
 sessed himself of a hill which commanded the 
 enemy, so that the. Samnites being attacked on
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 18S 
 
 either side, were deffated with great slaughter, 
 not less than thirty thousand of them being left 
 dead on the field of battle. 
 
 Soon after, the inhabitants of Capua request- 
 ed to have a Roman garrison to winter there, to 
 secure them from the insults of the Samnites. 
 Their desire was accordingly complied with, but 
 Capua was ever noted for being the destroyer of 
 military discipline, and for enervating its protect- 
 ors. It offered so many delights, and gratified 
 so largely all the softer passions, that the Roman 
 garrison began to lose not only their courage, 
 but their virtue. They formed a design of de- 
 stroying the inhabitants, and taking the town to 
 themselves. This design they communicated to 
 their companions in other parts of the country, 
 and _they as readily embraced the proposal. 
 At length, however, it came to the notice of the 
 officers, who detesting so much baseness, led the 
 legions into the field, and kept them in action, in 
 order to prevent their returning to their former 
 designs. But notwithstanding the care of the 
 general and officers, the soldiers, finding them- 
 selves liable to the severest punishments fortheip 
 late perfidious schemes, began to mutiny, and 
 uniting themselves into one body, marched di- 
 rectly forward for Rome. For some time they 
 were without a leader, no man being bold enough, 
 or base enough, to head an army, whose confe- 
 derating principle was treachery. At length 
 they forced Quintius, an old and eminent sol- 
 dier, who was then residing in the country, to be
 
 184 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 their leader, and conducted by their rage, more 
 than their general, came within eight miles of the 
 city. So terrible an enemy, almost at the gates, 
 not a little alarmed the senate, who immediately 
 created Valerius Corvus dictator, and sent him 
 forth with another army to oppose them. The 
 two armies were now drawn up against each 
 other, while fathers and sons beheld themselves 
 prepared to engage in opposite causes. Any 
 other general but Corvus might have brought this 
 civil war to an extremity, but he knowing his in- 
 fluence among the soldiery, instead of going for- 
 ward to meet the mutineers in a hostile manner, 
 went with the most cordial friendship to embrace 
 his old acquaintance. ** I have had,** cried he, 
 ** my friends, opportunities enough of showing 
 ** my valour in war, I now only want to acquire 
 " reputation by making peace. You cannot 
 " distrust me, my friends, or think Valerius Cor- 
 *' vus can ever be severe, who never yet got one 
 ** law enacted in the senate, that was contrary to 
 " your interests. You cannot think he will be 
 ** severe, whose austerities were ever practised 
 ** only upon himself. But whatever you do, I 
 " am resolved to behave as becomes me. If I 
 ** draw my sword, it shall not be till you have 
 ** drawn yours first : if blood must be shed, you 
 ** shall begin the slaughter. But whom will you 
 " destroy ? Not your enemies, not the Samnites 
 <' or the Volscians, but your fathers, brothers, 
 " children, countrymen; and in the view of these 
 '^ very mountains that gave you birth and educa-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 185 
 
 ** tioti together. But let it not be so. You, 
 " Quintius, if indeed you are the commander of 
 " this shameful expedition, have only to ask 
 " with reason, and we will grant with mercy." 
 The whole army seemed affected with this 
 speech. Quintius, as their speaker, only desired 
 to have their defection from their duty forgiven; 
 and as for himself, as he was innocent of their 
 conspiracy, he had no reason to solicit pardonTor 
 any offence. Thus, this defection, which at 
 first threatened such dangers to Rome, was re- 
 paired by the prudence and moderation of a ge- 
 neral, whose ambition it was to be gentle to his 
 friends, and formidable only to his enemies. The 
 mutineers were once more received into favour, 
 and the dictator having no further employment 
 abroad, laid down his office. 
 
 In the mean while, as the war with the u. c. 
 Samnites was for some time carried on 411. 
 with various success, a peace was concluded, 
 which seemed so offensive to the Latins and the 
 Campanians, that it induced them to revolt. 
 The former carried their demands so far as to in- 
 sist, that one of the consuls and half the senate 
 should be chosen out of their body, before they 
 would submit to think of peace. The Romans 
 at first tried by gentle means to turn them from 
 their purpose ; but they insisted upon it still 
 more resolutely, ascribing the lenity of Rome 
 to its fears. In order therefore to chastise them, 
 the two consuls Manlius Torquatus, and his 
 colleague, Decius Mus, were sent by the senate
 
 186 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to invade their country. However, the Latins 
 were not remiss in their preparations for a de- 
 fence, so that the two armies met with equal ani^ 
 mosity, and a bloody and obstinate battle ensued. 
 In this battle, the strict discipline of the Romans, 
 and their amazing patriotism, were displayed, 
 in a manner that has excited, rather the wonder 
 than the admiration of posterity. As the Latins 
 and Romans were a neighbouring people, and 
 their habits, arms, and language were the same, 
 the most exact discipline was necessary, to pre- 
 vent confusion in the engagement. Orders 
 therefore were issued by Manlius the consul, 
 that no soldier should leave his ranks upon what- 
 ever provocation, and that he should be certain- 
 ly put to death who offered to do otherwise. 
 With these injunctions, both armies were drawn 
 out in array, and ready to begin ; when Metius, 
 the general of the enemies' cavalry, pushed for- 
 ward from his lines, and challenged any knight 
 in the Roman army, to single combat. For 
 some time there was a general pause, no soldier 
 offering to disobey his orders, till Titus Manlius, 
 the consul's son, burning with shame to see the 
 whole body of the Romans intimidated, boldly 
 singled out against his adversary. The soldiers 
 on both sides, for a while, suspended the general 
 engagement, to be spectators of this fierce en- 
 counter. The two champions drove their horses 
 against each other with great violence: Metius 
 wounded his adversary's horse in the neck; but 
 Manlius, with better fortune, killed that of
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 187 
 
 Metius. The Latin being thus fallen to the 
 ground, for a wliile attempted to support himself 
 upon his shield ; but the Roman followed his 
 blows with so much force, that he laid him dead, 
 as he was endeavouring to rise, and then de* 
 spoiling him of his armour, ret^urned in triumph 
 to the consul, h.s father's tent, where he was 
 preparing and giving orders relative to the 
 engagement. Howsoever he might have been 
 applauded by his fellow-soldiers, being as yet 
 doubtful of the reception l;e should find from his 
 father, he came with hesitation, to lay the ene- 
 mies* spoils at his feet and with a modest air, 
 insinuated, that what he did, was entirely from 
 a spirit of hereditary virtue. But he was soon 
 dreadfully made sensible of his error, when his 
 father, turning away, ordered him to be led 
 publicly forth before the army. Here being 
 brought forward, the consul, with a stern coun- 
 tenance, and yet with tears, spoke as follows: 
 '* Titus Manlius, as thou hast regarded neither 
 '* the dignity of the consulship, nor the comf- 
 " mands of thy father, as thou hast destroyed 
 '* military discipline, and set a pattern of dis- 
 " obedience by thy example, thou hast reduced 
 " me to a deplorable extremity of sacrificing 
 ** my son or my country. But let us not hesi- 
 " tate in this dreadful alternative, a thousand 
 " lives were well lost in such a cause; nor do I 
 " think, that thou thyself wilt refuse to die, 
 *' when thy country is to reap the advantage of 
 " thy sufferings. Go, Lictor, bind him, and
 
 188 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 *' let his death be our future example." The 
 whole army was struck with horror at this un- 
 natural mandate; fear, for a while, kept them 
 in suspense, but when they saw their young 
 champion's head struck off, and his blood stream- 
 ing upon the ground, they could no longer con- 
 tain their execrations and their groans. His 
 dead body was carried forth without the camp, 
 and being adorned with the spoils of the van- 
 quished enemy, it was buried with all the pomp 
 of military distress. 
 
 In the mean time, the battle joined with mu- 
 tual fury, and, as the two armies had often 
 fought under the same leaders, they combated 
 with all the animosity of a civil war. The La- 
 tins chiefly depended on their bodily strength, 
 the Romans on their invincible courage and 
 conduct. Forces so nearly matched seemed 
 only to require the protection of their deities, 
 to turn the scale of victory, and in fact, the 
 augurs had foretold, that whatever part of the 
 Roman army should be distressed, the commander 
 of that part should devote himself for his coun- 
 try, and die as a sacrifice to the immortal gods. 
 Manlius commanded the right wing, and De- 
 cius led on the left. Both sides fought for some 
 time with doubtful success, as their courage was 
 equal ; but, after a time, the left wing of the 
 Roman army began to give ground. It was 
 then that Decius, who commanded there, re- 
 solved to devote himself for his country, and to 
 offer his own life as an atonement to save his
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 189 
 
 army. Thus determined, he called out to Man- 
 lius with a loud voice, and demanded his in- 
 structions, as he was the chief pontiff, how to 
 devote himself, and the form of the words he 
 should use. By his direction, therefore, being 
 clothed in a long robe, his head covered, and 
 his arms stretched forward, standing upon a 
 javelin, he devoted himself to the celestial and 
 infernal gods, for the safety of Rome. Then be- 
 ing armed and on horseback, he drove furiously 
 into the midst of the enemies, carrying terror 
 and consternation wherever he came, till he fell 
 covered with wounds. In the mean time, the 
 Roman army considered his devoting himself in 
 this manner as an assurance of success : nor 
 was the superstition of the Latins less power- 
 fully influenced by his resolution; a total rout 
 began to ensue, the Romans pressed them on 
 every side, and so great was the carnage, that 
 scarce a fourth part of the enemy survived the 
 defeat. This was the last battle of any conse- 
 quence, that the Latins had with the Romans ; 
 they were forced to beg a peace upon hard con- 
 ditions; and two years after, their strongest city, 
 Paedum, being taken, they were brought into an 
 entire submission to the Roman power. 
 
 The Samnites, however, were still unconquer- 
 ed; a peace had been made with them some 
 time before, which neither side seemed long 
 inclined to preserve. Their giving assistance to 
 the Campanians, who had formerly begged the 
 protection of the Romans against them, and
 
 190 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 now entreated theirs against Rome, renewed a 
 war, which, though internntted by various trea- 
 ties and suspensions, was to end only with the 
 ruin of the slate. For some time, indeed, the 
 fate of either nation seemed uncertain, for though 
 u. c. the Samnites were in general worsted, a 
 431. signal disgrace which the Romans sustain- 
 ed about this time, made a pause in their usual 
 good fortune, and turned the scale for a while 
 in the enemies' favour. The senate having de- 
 nied the Samnites peace, Pontius their general, 
 was resolved to gain by stratagem, what he had 
 frequently lost by force. Accordingly, Seading 
 his army to a defiie, called Claudium, and tak- ' 
 ing possession of all its outlets, lie sent ten of 
 his soldiers, habited like shepherds, with direc- 
 tions to throw themselves in the way the Ro- 
 mans were to march. Exactly to his wishes, 
 the Roman consul met them, and taking them 
 for what they appeared, demanded the route 
 the Samnite army had taken: they with seem- 
 ing indifference replied, that they were gone to 
 Luceria, a town in Apulia, and were then actu- 
 ally besieging it. The Roman general, not sus- 
 pecting the stratagem that was laid against him, 
 marched directly by the shortest road, which 
 lay through the defiles, to relieve the city, and 
 did not find himself deceived, till he saw his 
 army surrounded, and blocked up on every 
 side. The Samnites having the Roman army 
 at this great disadvantage, immediately sent off 
 to Herennius, their general's father, for instruc-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. }Ql 
 
 tions how to proceed. The old crafty Samnite, 
 who knew the disposition of the Romans, and 
 that a fierce enemy was either to be entirely 
 vanquished or entirely won, advised his son, 
 either to put them indiscriminately to the sword, 
 or to dismiss them all without shame or injury; 
 urging at the same time, that one of these two 
 ways was absolutely necessary; the first would 
 incapacitate them from future annoyance, the 
 last would lay them under an obligation, which 
 they could never remove. This counsel, though 
 the most prudent that could be imagined, was 
 rejected; a middle way was taken, which only 
 served to exasperate the Romans, but not to 
 subdue them. Pontius first obliged their army 
 to pass under the yoke, having been previously 
 stripped of all but their under garments ; he then 
 stipulated, that they should wholly quit the 
 territories of the Samnites, and that they should 
 continue to live upon terms of former confedera- 
 cy. The Romans were constrained to submit to 
 this ignominious treaty, and marched into Capua 
 disarmed, half-naked, and burning with a desire 
 of retrieving their lost honour. When the army 
 arrived at Rome, the whole city was most sur- 
 prisingly afflicted at their shameful return. 
 Nothing but fury and revenge appeared on every 
 face, while the consuls, who were the unfor- 
 tunate instruments of their disgrace, refused to 
 appear abroad, or to perform the necessary 
 functions of their office. A dictator was chosen* 
 who had no opportunity of acting; he laid
 
 192 THE lllSTORY OF THE 
 
 down his office, and the state continued for some 
 time without any supreme magistrate at its 
 head; nothing but grief and resentment was 
 to be seen, and the whole city was put into 
 mourning. 
 
 But this was but a transitory calamity, the 
 state had suffered a diminution of its glory, but 
 not of its power ; it only, therefore, sought an 
 opportunity of breaking a compact, which the 
 army had made merely by compulsion. The 
 two consuls who had entered into this treaty of- 
 fered themselves up to the enemy, as being the 
 only persons that could be called to account : 
 but Pontius, who justly observed, that the lives 
 of two men were not an equivalent for those of 
 an army, refused to receive the forfeit, and sent 
 them back, greatly exclaiming against the per- 
 fidiousness of Rome. The war was now there- 
 fore renewed, and the Samnites overthrown in 
 several battles, the Romans serving them, as they 
 themselves had been treated before. These suc- 
 cesses produced a truce of two years, which 
 when expired, the war was carried on, as usual, 
 for many years; the power of the Samnites de- 
 clining every day, while the Romans gathered 
 fresh confidence from every victory. Under the 
 conduct of Papirius Cursor, who was at differ- 
 ent times consul and dictator, repeated triumphs 
 were gained. Fabius Maximus also had his 
 share in the glory of conquering them, and De, 
 cius, the son of that Decius, whom we have 
 seen devoting himself for his country, about
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 195 
 
 forty years before, followed the example of his 
 noble father, and rushing into the midst of the 
 enemy, saved the lives of his countrymen by 
 the loss of his own. It may seem indeed 
 strange, how the Samnites could so long conti- 
 nue to make head against the Roman power; 
 .but we must consider, that they were aided by 
 all the little states round them, who were either 
 attached to them by interest, or united by a 
 jealousy of Rome's growing greatness. Thus 
 the Tarentines, the Lucani, the Thurini, and all 
 the southern states of Italy, by turns, sent assist- 
 ance, which for a while checked the progress of 
 the conquerors. But their stop was of short du- 
 ration: both they, as well as the Samnites, after 
 repeated defeats, saw themselves at last stripped 
 of their cities, and the greatest part of their 
 country: they saw themselves, at the end of a 
 long war, quite exhausted, near two hundred 
 thousand of their bravest men being killed in 
 battle. In this distress, as the Italian states 
 were unable to defend themselves, they were 
 obliged to call in the assistance of a foreign 
 power, and had recourse to Pyrrhus, king of 
 Epirus, to save them from impending ruin. 
 
 Pyrrhus, a king of great courage, ambition, 
 and power, had always kept the example of Alex- 
 ander, his great predecessor, before his eyes: 
 he was reckoned the most experienced general 
 of his time, and commanded a body of troops, 
 then supposed to be the best disciplined of all 
 ■the nations round them. The Romans were now 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 therefore no longer to combat with a tumultuary 
 force, raised in times of exigence, and depending 
 on their courage alone for victory: they were to 
 oppose an army levied amongst the most polish- 
 ed people then existing, formed under the great- 
 est generals, and led on by the most noted com- 
 mander of his time. Pyrrhus, as was said, having 
 been applied to for succour by the Tarentines, 
 who, in the name of all the declining states of 
 Italy, conjured him to save them from the' threat- 
 ening distress, promised to come to their assist- 
 ance. In the mean time he dispatched over a 
 body of three thousand men, under the command 
 of Cineas, an experienced soldier, and a scholar 
 of the great orator Demosthenes. Nor did he 
 himself remain long behind, but soon after put 
 to sea with three thousand horse, twenty thousand 
 foot, and twenty elephants, in which the com- 
 manders of that time began to place very great 
 confidence. Only a small part, however, of these 
 great preparations arrived in Italy with him, for 
 many of his ships were dispersed^, and some total- 
 ly lost in a tempest. Upon his arrival at Taren- 
 tum, his first care was to reform the people he 
 came to succour : for observing a total dissolu- 
 tion of manners in this luxurious city, and how 
 the inhabitants were rather occupied with the 
 pleasures of bathing, feasting, and dancing, than 
 in preparing for war; he gave orders to have all 
 their places of public entertainment shut up, 
 and that they should be restrained in all these 
 amusements that render soldiers unfit for battle.
 
 COMMONAVEALTH OF ROME. \95 
 
 He attempted to repress their licentious manner 
 of treating their governors, and even summoned 
 some vi'ho had mentioned his own name with 
 ridicule, to appear before him. However, he 
 was prevented from punishing them by their 
 ingenuous manner of confessing the charge. 
 " Yes," cried they, " we have spoken all this 
 *' against you, and would have said still more, 
 " but that we had no more wine." But though 
 he forgave them with a smile, he took the most 
 prudent precautions to guard himself against 
 their well-known insincerity; sending his son out 
 of the city, and removing all those he suspected 
 most forward to promote sedition. In the mean 
 time, the Romans did all that prudence could 
 suggest, to oppose so formidable an enemy, and 
 the consul Lasvinus was sent with a numerous 
 army to interrupt his progress. Wherefore Pyr- 
 rhus, though his whole army was not yet arrived, 
 drew out to meet him, but previously sent an 
 ambassador, desiring to be permitted to mediate 
 between the Romans and the people ofTarentum. 
 To this LsBvinus returned for answer, that he 
 neither esteemed him as a mediator, nor fear- 
 ed him as an enemy, and then leading the am- 
 bassador through the Roman camp, desired him 
 to observe diligently what he saw, and report the 
 result to his master. 
 
 War being thus determined on either part, 
 both armies approaching, pitched their tents in 
 sight of each other upon the opposite banks of 
 the river Lyris. Pyrrhus was always extremely 
 
 OS
 
 196 THE HISTORY OF THE ^ 
 
 careful in directing the situation of his own 
 camp, and in observing that of the enemy. It was 
 here, that walking along the banks of the river, 
 and surveying the Roman method of encamping, 
 " These barbarians," cried he, turning to one 
 of his favourites, " seem to me to be no way 
 " barbarous, and I fear, we shall too soon find, 
 *' their actions equal to their resolution." How- 
 ever, ordering a body of men along the bank 
 of the river, he placed them in readiness to 
 oppose the Romans, in case they should at- 
 tempt to ford it before his whole army was 
 brought together. Things turned out according 
 to his expectations ; the consul, with an impetu- 
 osity that marked his inexperience, gave orders 
 for passing the river where it was fordable, and 
 the Epirean advanced guard having attempted 
 to oppose him in vain, were obliged to retire to 
 the main body of their army. Pyrrhus being 
 apprised of the enemies' attempt, at first hoped 
 to cut off their cavalry, before they could be rein- 
 forced by the foot that were not as yet got 
 over, and led on in person a chosen body of 
 horse against them. It was on this occasion, 
 that he showed himself equal to his great reputa- 
 tion : he was constantly seen at the head of his 
 men, leading them on with spirit, yet directing 
 them with calmness; at once performing the 
 office of a general, and the duty of a common 
 soldier, he showed the greatest presence of mind 
 joined to the greatest valour. He was chiefly 
 conspicuous by the nobleness of his air, and the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 197 
 
 richness of his armour, so that wherever he ap- 
 peared, the throng of the battle was gathered 
 round him. In the midst of the engagement his 
 horse happening to be killed under him, he was 
 obliged to change armour with one of his atten- 
 dants, and go to another part of the combat 
 that required his immediate presence. Mean- 
 while, the Roman knights mistaking this atten- 
 dant for the king himself, levelled all their at- 
 tempts that way, and at last slew him, and carried 
 his armour to the consul. The report being 
 spread through both armies, that the king was 
 slain, the Greeks were struck with a general panic, 
 and the Romans began to assure themselves of 
 victory. But Pyrrhus in the instant came bare- 
 headed into the van, and repeatedly crying 
 out, that he still lived, he inspired his soldiers 
 with new vigour. At length the Roman legions 
 had advanced across the river, and the engage- 
 ment was become general; the Greeks fought with 
 a consciousness of their former fame, and the 
 Romans with a desire of gaining fresh glory; 
 mankind had never before seen two such differ- 
 ently disciplined armies opposed to each other, 
 nor is it to this day determined, whether the 
 Greek phalanx or the Roman legion were pre- 
 ferable. The combat was long in suspense ; the 
 Romans had seven times repulsed the enemy, 
 and were as often driven back themselves, but at 
 length, while the success seemed doubtful, Pyr- 
 rhus sent his elephants into the midst of the en- 
 gagement, and these turned the scale of victory
 
 198 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 in his favour. .The Romans had never before 
 seen creatures of such magnitude ; they were 
 terrified not only with their intrepid fierceness, 
 but with the castles which were built upon their 
 backs filled with armed men ; they considered 
 them, rather as prodigies sent to destroy, than as 
 animals trained up to subdue them. But not 
 only the men, but the horses shared in this ge- 
 neral consternation, neither enduring the smell 
 nor the cries of these formidable creatures, but 
 throwing their riders, they filled the ranks with 
 confusion. It was then that Pyrrhus saw the 
 day was his own, and sending in his Thessalian 
 cavalry to charge the enemy in disorder, the rout 
 became general. A dreadful slaughter of the 
 Romans ensued, fifteen thousand men being 
 killed on the spot, and eighteen hundred taken 
 prisoners. Nor were the conquerors much in a 
 better state than the vanquished, Pyrrhus him- 
 self being wounded, and thirteen thousand of 
 his forces slain. Night coming on put an end 
 to the slaughter on both sides, and Pyrrhus 
 was heard to cry out, that one such victory more 
 would ruin his army. The next day, as he 
 walked to view the field of battle, he could not 
 help regarding with admiration the bodies of 
 the Romans which were slain : upon seeing 
 them all with their wounds before, their counte- 
 nances, though even in death, marked with 
 noble resolution, and a sternness that awed him 
 into respect; he was heard to cry out in the true 
 spirit of a military adventurer, " O with- what
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 199 
 
 " ease could I conquer the world, had I the Ro- 
 " mans for soldiers, or had they me for their 
 " king." The Romans were highly pleased with 
 this politeness in an enemy, but still more with 
 his civil treatment, and his courtesy to the pri- 
 soners he had taken : complaisance to the cap- 
 tives, was a degree of refinement the Romans 
 were yet to learn from the Greeks ; but it was 
 only sufficient to show this brave people an im- 
 provement, either in morals or war, and they 
 immediately set about imitation. 
 
 The Romans, though defeated, were still un- 
 conquered; they again began to use all necessary 
 diligence to recruit their army, and to oppose the 
 conqueror, who, joined by the southern s^^ates of 
 Italy, was marching directly towards Rome. 
 However, he was still unwilling to drive them to 
 an extremity, and finding them making great 
 preparations, he considered, that it was best 
 treating with an enemy after having gained a 
 victory over them ; he resolved therefore to send 
 his friend Cineas, the orator, to negotiate, and 
 use all his arts to induce them to peace. He 
 had long reposed great confidence in the abilities 
 and persuasive powers of this scholar of Demo- 
 sthenes, and often asserted, that he had won 
 more towns by the eloquence of Cineas, than by 
 his own arms. The old crafty Grecian readily 
 undertook the embassy, and entering Rome, be- 
 gan his negotiation, by attempting to influence 
 not only the senators, but even their v?ives, by 
 presents which he said were sent them by his
 
 200 THE HISTORY OF THE ^ 
 
 master. This, however, was the age of Roman 
 virtue; the senators refused to accept these boun- 
 ties, which they considered as bribes to betray 
 their country, and the women were not behind 
 their husbands in their noble disinterestedness. 
 They bade him give back to his master those 
 allurements to treason, adding, that they would 
 then only accept his offers, when the senate had 
 considered whether they should accept his terms 
 of peace. Never was there a time in which all 
 the military and patriotic virtues shone with 
 greater lustre than now. The senators having 
 by a late law, as has been related, reduced their 
 fortunes more nearly to a level with those of the 
 people, began to seek distinction from virtue 
 only, and despised those riches which could not 
 be increased so as to place them at a distance 
 from the vulgar. Thus Cineas, with all his art, 
 found the Romans impenetrable, either by bri- 
 bery or private persuasion: finding, therefore, 
 these methods ineffectual, he proceeded to his, 
 commission more publicly, and was, at his re- 
 quest, introduced to the senate. Here he began 
 by extolling his master's courage and clemency ; 
 his desire of patronising the brave, and his par- 
 ticular esteem for the Romans. He proceeded 
 to inculcate the blessings of peace, and the fine 
 opportunity the senate then had of restoring it. 
 He offered, in his master's name, to return all 
 ^hat had been lately taken in battle, without ran- 
 som, to give assistance to the Romans on any fu- 
 ture occasion, and all that was asked in return.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. 201 
 
 was their alliance and friendship, together with 
 permission to have theTarentines included in the 
 treaty. These offers, and still more the orator's 
 eloquence, appeared to touch the whole assembly: 
 a general inclination seemed to prevail in favour 
 of the king's proposal, and a peace was confi- 
 dently talked of in every part of the city. In this 
 juncture, Appius Claudius, an old senator, who 
 was now grown blind with age, and had long 
 discontinued public business, caused himself to 
 be carried into the house in a litter. The sur- 
 prise of seeing him in the senate again, and num- 
 berless infirmities which he appeared to surmount 
 in coming, awed the whole assembly into silence 
 and attention : " I have long," cried he, raising 
 himself from his couch, " considered my blind- 
 *' ness and my infirmities as evils; thought that 
 " Heaven had been willing to punish my oid age, 
 " for the faults I had committed when young, 
 " and had repaid a youth of folly with an age of 
 " pain ; but now, conscript fathers, I find that I 
 " have been peculiarly indulged in what I con- 
 " sidered as calamities, since my loss of sight 
 *' has hindered me from seeing the late dishonour 
 ** of my country. Nay, might I make a wish, 
 " it should be for deafness also, and then I should 
 " no longer hear of what must now excite indig- 
 " nation in the breast of every virtuous Roman. 
 " How. different are you now from what you 
 " were some years ago I Alexander, whom the 
 " world has called Great, was then thought no- 
 " thing of in Rome; we then universally ascribed
 
 202 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 " his conquests not to his valour but his fortune, 
 "you then wished that the tide of war might 
 " have brought him into Italy, only to show the 
 " world your own superior prowess. But how 
 ** are you fallen at present 1 You then wished to 
 " combat with the conqueror of Greece, and now 
 " you fear to engage one of those states which 
 " he actually conquered. You desired to cope 
 " with Alexander, and yet you refuse to meet 
 " one who has left his native country, rather 
 " through a fear of his ancient enemies, than a 
 '* desire of finding new. We have therefore but 
 " this alternative, either boldly to meet Pyrrhus 
 " in the field, or to be content to suffer all the 
 *' contempt the neighbouring statesof Italy shall 
 ** throw upon us, and thus by endeavouring to 
 *' avoid one war, engage ourselves in a hund- 
 " red.*' This speech was received with univer- 
 sal approbation ; the assembly grew warm in the 
 praises of their rough old orator, and the smooth 
 orations of Cineas were heard no more. Being 
 therefore unable to make any progress in his 
 embassy, he was dismissed with an answer, inti- 
 mating, that when Pyrrhus should withdraw his 
 forces from Italy, that then the senate would 
 treat with him concerning peace. 
 
 Cineas being thus frustrated in his expecta- 
 tions, returned to his master, extolling both the 
 virtues and the grandeur of the Romans. The 
 senate, he said, appeared a reverend assembly of 
 demi-gods, and the city a temple for their recep- 
 tion. Of this Pyrrhus soon after became sensi-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 203 
 
 ble, by an embassy from Rome, concerning the 
 ransom and exchange of prisoners. 
 
 At the head of this venerable deputation was 
 Fabricius, an ancient senator, who had long been 
 a pattern to his countrymen of the most extreme 
 poverty, joined with the most cheerful content. 
 This practical philosopher, who had been for- 
 merly consul, and was now the ambassador of 
 Rome, had no other plate furniture in his house, 
 except a small cup, the bottom even of which 
 w'as of horn. His daughters being without for- 
 tunes, the senate generously portioned them 
 from the public treasury. When the Samnites 
 had formerly offered him large presents, he re- 
 fused them, saying that he was already rich, as 
 he had learned the art of lessening his wants by 
 retrenching his appetites. Pyrrhus received this 
 celebrated old man with great kindness, and 
 willing to try how far fame had been just in his 
 favour, offered him rich presents, which however 
 the Roman refused ; the day after, he w^as de- 
 sirous of examining the equality of his temper, 
 and ordered one of his elephants to be placed be- 
 hind the tapestry, which, upon a signal given, 
 raised its trunk above the ambassador's head, at 
 the same time using other arts to intimidate him. 
 Fabricius, however, with a countenance no way 
 changing, smiled upon the king, observing, that 
 he looked with an equal eye on the terrors of this 
 day, as he had upon the allurements of the pre- 
 ceding. Pyrrhus, pleased to find so much virtue 
 in one he had considered as a barbarian, wasr
 
 204 ^HE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 willing to grant him the only favour which he 
 knew could make him happy. He released the 
 Roman prisoners, intrusting them to Fabricius 
 alone, upon his promise, that in case the senate 
 were determined to continue the war, he might 
 reclaim them whenever he thought proper, 
 u. c. By this time the Roman army was recover- 
 474. ed from its last defeat, and Sulpicius and 
 Decius, the consuls for the following year, 
 were placed at its head. The panic which had 
 formerly seized it from the elephants, now began 
 to wear off, and the generals, with great assiduity, 
 applied themselves to imitate the discipline of 
 Pyrrhus, and the Grecian method of encamp- 
 ment. It was in this manner they always adopt- 
 ed the improvements of other nations, and learn- 
 ed by defeat the power of becoming invincible. 
 Both armies met near the city Asculum, both 
 pretty nearly equal in numbers, being about forty 
 thousand strong. Pyrrhus found himself incom- 
 moded by a woody country, that prevented his 
 phalanx and elephants from being so serviceable 
 as in the plain ; he, therefore, continued for some 
 time rather upon the defensive, until night should 
 give hira time to make a more advantageous dis- 
 position. The next morning he caused a detach- 
 ment of his cavalry to possess themselves of the 
 upper grounds, and thus force the enemy into the 
 plain, which when they had successfully effect- 
 ed, he brought down his elephants into the 
 thickest of the fight, and mixing his slingers 
 and archers among them, formed a body that
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 205 
 
 the Romans were scarce able to resist ; besides, 
 not having the advantages of advancing and 
 retreating, as the day before, the battle became 
 close and general. The Roman legions at first 
 were unable to pierce the Greek phalanx, but, 
 at length, careless of their own lives, they made 
 a desperate slaughter among them. In fine, 
 after a long and desperate fight, the Grecian 
 discipline prevailed, and the Romans being 
 pressed on every side, particularly by the ele- 
 phants, were obliged to retire to their camp, 
 leaving six thousand men dead upon the field 
 of battle. But the enemy had no great reason to 
 boast of their triumph, as they had four thou- 
 sand slain, so that Pyrrhus replied to one of his 
 soldiers who was congratulating him upon his 
 victory, " One such triumph more, and I shall 
 be undone." Nor was he unjust in his asser- 
 tion, as by this time the greatest part of those 
 forces which had followed him from home were 
 destroyed, and his friends and generals were 
 mostly cut otf. 
 
 This battle finishing the campaign, the next 
 season began with equal vigour on both sides, 
 Pyrrhus having received new succours from 
 home, while old Fabricius, who was made con- 
 sul with iEmilius, led on the Romans, no way 
 discouraged by their former defeat. While the 
 two armies were approaching, and yet but a 
 small distance from each other, a letter was 
 brought to Fabricius from the king's physi- 
 cian, importing, that for a proper reward, he
 
 206 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 would take him off by poison, and thus rid the 
 Romans of a powerful enemy and a dangerous 
 war. Fabricius felt all the honest indignation 
 at this base proposal, that was consonant with 
 his former character; he communicated it to 
 his colleague, and instantly gave it as his opi- 
 nion, that Pyrrhus should be informed of the 
 treachery that was plotted against him. Ac- 
 cordingly letters were dispatched for that pur- 
 pose, informing Pyrrhus of his unfortunate 
 choice of friends and enemies. That he had 
 trusted and promoted villains; while he carried 
 his resentment against the generous and the 
 brave. Pyrrhus now began to find that these 
 bold barbarians were by degrees schooling into 
 refinement, and would not suffer him to be their 
 superior even in generosity: he received the mes- 
 sage with equal amazement at their candour, and 
 indignation at his physician's treachery. " Ad- 
 " mirable Fabricius !** cried he, " it would be as 
 ** easy to turn the sun from its course, as thee 
 " from the paths of honour.'* Then making the 
 proper inquiry among his servants, and having 
 discovered the treason, he ordered his physician 
 to be executed. However, not to be outdone in 
 magnanimity, he immediately sent to Rome all 
 his prisoners without ransom, and again desired 
 to negotiate a peace. The Romans, on the 
 other hand, refused him peace, but upon the 
 same conditions as thej' had offered before, and 
 released as many of the Samnites andTarentines 
 as equalled the number of the prisoners they had
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. ^07 
 
 received. The king was a good deal astonished 
 at the Roman obstinacy ; he appealed divided 
 between shame and necessity, his circumstances 
 obliging him in some measure to discontinue the 
 war, while his honour was hurt in being com- 
 pelled to leave it unfinished. However, an in- 
 vitation from the Sicilians, begging relief against 
 the Carthaginians, wh® had possessed their 
 island, and treated them cruelly, relieved him 
 from his embarrassment. This expedition pro- 
 mised more rewards and less labour, and such 
 were the chief objects of this military rambler's 
 attention. He, therefore, placed a garrison in 
 Tarentum, much against the inclination of the 
 inhabitants, and then sending his friend Cineas 
 before him, followed with all the rest of his 
 forces to relieve Sicily. 
 
 In the mean time, the Samnites and Taren- 
 tines being left to the mercy of the Romans, 
 continued to solicit him with the most earnest 
 supplications, to return to protect them, Pyr- 
 rhus, whom his successes in Sicily had for some 
 time made deaf to their entreaties, was after a 
 lapse of two years spent in ineffectual victory, 
 glad to have a specious pretext to leave this 
 country also, as he had formerly left Italy. He, 
 therefore, with some difficulty, once more re- 
 turned to Tarentum, at the head of twenty thou- 
 sand foot and three thousand horse. The Ro- 
 mans, though pressed by so formidable a power 
 as that of Pyrrhus, had riot yet forgotten the an- 
 cient animosity between the orders of the state,
 
 208 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 and upon a levy being set forward to form an 
 army to oppose him, several of the people refused 
 to enlist. In order to repress a sedition which 
 threatened nothing less than the destruction of 
 the empire, the consuls resolved to act with 
 spirit, and accordingly commanded that the 
 names of the citizens should be drawn by lot, and 
 that he who first refused to take the field, should 
 be sold as a slave. This timely severity had its 
 effect, and whenever after any man refused to 
 enlist M'hen called upon, he was instantly treated 
 by the consuls in that manner. Having thus 
 raised a sufficient body of forces, the consuls 
 divided their army into two parts, and marched 
 into the eneniies'.country, one into Lucania, and 
 the other among the Samnites. Pyrrhus having 
 increased his army also by new levies, and being 
 informed of this, divided his forces also, and 
 sent one part to oppose the march of Lentulus, 
 while he himself went to attack Curius Denta- 
 tus, before his colleague could come up. His 
 principal aim was to surprise the enemy by 
 night, but unfortunately passing through woods, 
 and his lights failing him, his men lost their 
 way, so that at the approach of morning, they 
 saw themselves in sight of the Roman camp, 
 with the enemy drawn out ready to receive 
 them. The vanguard of both armies soon met, 
 in which the Romans had the advantage. Soon 
 after a general engagement ensuing, Pyrrhus, 
 finding the balance of the victory turning still 
 against him, had once more recourse to his ele-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 209 
 
 phants. These, however, the Romans were now 
 too well acquainted with, to feel any vain ter- 
 rors from ; and having found that fire was the 
 most effectual means to repel them, they caused 
 numbers of balls to be made, composed of flax 
 and rosin, which were thrown against them as 
 they approached the ranks. The elephants, thus 
 rendered furious by the flame, and as boldly op- 
 posed by the soldiers, could no longer be brought 
 on, but ran back on their own army, bearing 
 down their ranks, and filling all places with ter- 
 ror and confusion. Thus victory at length de- 
 clared in favour of Rome: Pyrrhus in vain at- 
 tempted to stop the flight and the slaughter of 
 his troops ; he lost not only twenty-three thou- 
 sand of his best soldiers, but his camp was also 
 taken. This served as a new lesson to the Ro- 
 mans, who were ever open to improvement: they 
 had formerly pitched their tents without order; 
 but by this, they were taught to measure out 
 their ground, and fortify the whole with a trench; 
 so that many of their succeeding victories may 
 be ascribed to their improved method of en- 
 camping. 
 
 In the mean time, while the two consuls were 
 entering triumphant into Rome, Pyrrhus bore 
 his defeat with unbroken courage: his first care 
 was to secure a retreat, and then to keep up the 
 spirits of his allies, with promises of better suc- 
 cess for the future. This he did, till he had tried 
 the utmost of what his interest could do to fur- 
 nish out another campaign. However, finding 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 THE HISTORY OF TH£ 
 
 all hopes of that fruitless, he resolved to leave 
 Italy, where he had found only desperate ene- 
 mies and faithless allies. Accordingly, calling 
 together the Tarentines, he informed them, that 
 he had received assurances from Greece of 
 speedy assistance, and desiring them to expect 
 the event with tranquillity : the night following 
 he emharked his troops, and returned undisturb- 
 ed into his native kingdom, with the remains of 
 his shattered forces; first leaving a garrison in 
 Tarentum, merely to save appearances. In this 
 manner ended the war with Pyrrhus, after six 
 years' continuance. Through the whole of this, 
 we find the Romans acting a nobler part than 
 in any former period; endeavouring to join the 
 politeness of Greece to the virtuous austerity of 
 their own manners. A spirit of frugality, con- 
 tempt of wealth, and virlaous emulation, had 
 spread itself over the whole senate. Fabricius 
 not only brought poverty into fashion by his ex- 
 ample, but punished all approaches to luxury 
 by his authority as a magistrate. About this 
 time, in the censorship of Fabricius, Ruffinus, 
 who had been twice a consul and once a dic- 
 tator, was turned out of the senate, and had a 
 mark of infamy put upon his name, for no other 
 offence than being possessed of ten pound of 
 silver plate for the use of his table. By this 
 love of temperance, and these successes in war, 
 though the individuals were poor, the public 
 was rich; the number of citizens also was in- 
 creased to above two hundred thousand men
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 211 
 
 capable of bearing arms ; and the fame of the 
 Roman name was so far extended, that Ptolemy 
 Philadelphus, king of Egypt, sent ambassadors 
 to congratulate their success, and to entreat 
 their alliance. As for the poor luxurious Ta- 
 rentines, who were the original promoters of 
 this war, they soon began to find a worse ene- 
 my in the garrison that was left for their de- 
 fence, than in the Romans who attacked them 
 from without. The hatred between them and 
 Milo, who commanded their citadel for Pyrrhus, 
 was become so great, that nothing but the fear 
 of their old inveterate enemies the Romans 
 could equal it. In this distress they applied 
 to the Carthaginians, who, with a large fleet, 
 came and blocked up the port of Tarentum; 
 so that this unfortunate people, who once were 
 famous through Italy for their refinements and 
 pleasures, now saw themselves contended for 
 by three different armies, while they were not 
 even left the choice of a conqueror. At length, 
 however, the Romans found means to bring over 
 the garrison to their interest; after which they 
 easily became masters of the city, and demo- 
 lished its walls, granting the inhabitants liberty 
 ^nd protection. 
 
 r ^
 
 212 THE HISTORY OF TH£ 
 
 CHAPTER XV, 
 
 From the Beginning of the First Punic War to the 
 Beginning of the Second, when the Rojnans be- 
 gan to grow powerful by Sea. 
 
 u. c. The Romans had now destroyed all rival 
 489. pretensions in Italy; the Tarentines, the 
 Samnites, the Lucanians, were now no more, or 
 patiently took laws from the conquerors. Their 
 victory over Pyrrhus not only gave them repu- 
 tation abroad, but kindled an ambition for fo- 
 reign conquest. They began also to know, 
 though not to practise, the refinements of the 
 Greeks and Tarentines, whom they had con- 
 quered; the number of their husbandmen dimi- 
 nished, while, as in all states becoming opulent, 
 their artisans and gentry continually increased. 
 The environs of the city were now therefore no 
 longer able to furnish their growing numbers 
 with corn, and supplies were brought from the 
 kingdoms abroad. Of these, Sicily sent by far 
 the greatest proportion; so that the people began 
 secretly to wish for the possession of a country, 
 which had for some time served as the granary 
 of Rome. To minds predisposed for conquest, a 
 pretext to begin is seldom wanting. The Car- 
 thaginians were at that time in possession of the 
 greatest part of Sicily; and, like the Romans,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 213 
 
 «n]y wanted an opportunity of embroiling the 
 natives, in order to become masters of the whole 
 island. This opportunity had now offered; 
 Hiero, king of Syracuse, one of the states of the 
 island as yet unconquered, entreated their aid 
 against the Mamertines, a little people of the 
 same country, and they sent him supplies both 
 hy land and sea. The Mamertines, on the other 
 hand, to shield off impending ruin, put them- 
 selves under the protection of Rom.e. The Ro- 
 mans, however, not thinking the Mamertines 
 worthy of the name of alHes, instead of profess- 
 ing to assist them, boldly declared war against 
 Carthage, alleging as a reason, the assistance 
 which Carthage had lately lent to the southern 
 parts of Italy against the Romans. In this 
 manner a war was declared between these two 
 powerful states, who were both grown too great 
 to continue patient spectators of each other's 
 increase. 
 
 Carthage, a colony of the Phoenicians, was 
 built on the coast of Africa, near the place 
 where Tunis now stands, about a hundred and 
 thirty-seven years before the foundation of Rome. 
 As it had been long growing into power, so it 
 had extended its dominions all along the coasts, 
 and was in possession also of many of the princi- 
 pal islands in the Mediterranean sea. But its 
 chief strength lay in its fleets and commerce; 
 by these its riches were become immense, and 
 by their money alone, they were capable of 
 hiring and sending forth armies to conquer or
 
 Jil4 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to keep their neighbours under subjection. How* 
 ever, as they had now been long in possession of 
 affluence, the state began to feel the evils that 
 wealth is too apt to produce; for, as at Rome, 
 public employments were made the reward of 
 virtue only, and superior honour only raised to a 
 preference of toils ; so, in Carthage, the several 
 offices which the state had to bestow were 
 venal, and those who purchased them only 
 aimed at being reimbursed by all the sordid 
 arts of peculation. Thus unequally matched, 
 these two great powers began what was called 
 the first Punic war; the Carthaginians possess- 
 ed of gold and silver, which might be exhausted; 
 the Romans of perseverance, patriotism, and po- 
 verty, which seemed to gather strength by every 
 defeat. 
 
 As the Romans had been hitherto shut up in 
 their own dominions, they had but little know- 
 ledge of the method of transporting an army by 
 sea. Appius Claudius was the first, who, by 
 means of a feeble fleet, or as some will have it, 
 a raft of timber, carried over a small body of 
 forces into Sicily, where victory, as usual, was 
 still attendant upon the fortune of Rome. A 
 league made with Hiero, king cf Syracuse, soon 
 after the consul's arrival, began to inspire the 
 Romans with hopes of expelling the Carthagi- 
 nians from the island, and becoming masters of 
 it in their turn. But still there seemed an un- 
 surmountable obstacle to their ambitious views ; 
 they had no fleet, or at least what deserved that
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 215 
 
 title ; while the Carthaginians being masters of a 
 very powerful one, had the entire command at 
 sea, and kept all the maritime towns under their 
 obedience. In such a situation, any people but 
 the Romans would have rested contented, under 
 disadvantages which nature seemed to have im- 
 posed; but nothing could conquer or intimidate 
 them. They began to apply themselves to ma- 
 ritime affairs; and though without shipwrights 
 to build, or seamen to navigate a fleet, yet they 
 resolved to surmount every obstacle with inflexi- 
 ble perseverance. A Carthaginian vessel hap- 
 pened to be in a storm driven ashore, and this 
 was sufficient to give the Romans hopes of build- 
 ing vessels, that might one day control the 
 long established naval power of the Carthagi- 
 nians. Accordingly they diligently set about 
 imitating this ship, which was in itself little 
 better than a wreck, building a hundred and 
 twenty more according to the model before them. 
 But now, although they had something like a 
 fleet, which, though clumsy and ill adapted for 
 sailing, was of some force, they still wanted sail- 
 ors to manage it. As for the Romans them- 
 selves, being bred up to husbandry, they were 
 perfectly ignorant of maritime affairs; and the 
 neighbouring states whom they had lately con- 
 quered, were either unwilling to embark, or not 
 to be relied on. In this exigence they taught 
 their men to row upon land, instructing them in 
 the naval manner of engaging, as well as they 
 could, leaving it to their native valour to do the
 
 Ql6 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 rest. The consul Duillius was the first who ven-r 
 tured to sea with this new-constructed arma- 
 ment ; but he soon, however, found, that the 
 enemy was every way superior in point of sail- 
 ing, and bringing on their vessels to an engage- 
 ment. But the indefatigable spirit of the Ro- 
 mans was not to be subdued ; he found out a 
 remedy even here, by inventing an instrument, 
 "which, upon an impulse of two ships, kept ihem 
 both grappled together, so that neither could 
 separate, untd courage had decided the victory. 
 By this, a naval engagement became more like 
 one on land; so that y^hen the two rival fleets 
 met, the Romans had the victory, the Carthagi- 
 nians losing fifty of their ships, and the undis- 
 turbed sovereignty of the sea, which they valued 
 more. These successes were so unexpected by 
 the senate, that Duillius, their admiral, obtained 
 a signal triumph, with orders, that whenever he 
 went out to supper, there should be a band of 
 music to attend him. 
 
 In the mean time, the contest was carried on 
 by land in Sicily with various success, the Ho- 
 mans, as well as their enemies, having sometimes 
 the worst of the campaign. But the conduct of 
 both nations, during the continuance of this war, 
 was manifestly different. The Carthaginians ap- 
 peared always murmuring against their generals 
 and admirals, and sometimes punished them with 
 death, for want of success. The Romans went 
 on still contented and persevering, and seem- 
 ingly as easy under a defeat, as happy when
 
 COMMONWEALTH OT ROME. 217 
 
 victorious. Their chief successes during the lat- 
 ter part of the war in Sicily were owing to the 
 conduct and courage of their consul Regulus, 
 who subdued the islands Lippara and that of 
 Melita, so celebrated at this day for being the 
 residence of the knights of Malta. The city of 
 Agrigentum in Sicily and of Alberia in Corsica, 
 were also attached to the conquests of Rome. 
 
 But these trifling successes were by no means 
 sufficient to gratify the sanguine expectations of 
 the people ; for though the Carthaginians were 
 sometimes defeated even at sea, yet they still 
 continued most powerful there, and sent in sup- 
 plies to the island at pleasure. The conquest 
 therefore of Sicily was only to be obtained by 
 humbling the power of Carthage at home. For 
 this reason, the senate resolved to carry the war 
 into Africa itself, and accordingly they sent 
 Regulus and Manlius, with a fleet of three hun- 
 dred sail, to make the invasion. Regulus was 
 reckoned the most consummate warrior that 
 Rome could then produce; he was a professed 
 example of frugal severity, but less austere to 
 others than to himself; he only reprehended those 
 faults which he would have died rather than have 
 committed : his patriotism was still greater than 
 his temperance; all the private passions seenied 
 extinguished in him, or they were all swallowed 
 up in one great ruling affection, the love of his 
 country. The two generals set sail with their* 
 fleet, which was the greatest that had ever yet 
 left an Italian port, carrying a hundred and forty
 
 218 THE HISTORY OF THE ' 
 
 thousand men. They were met by the Cartha- 
 ginians, with a fleet as powerful, and men bet- 
 ter used to the sea. While the fight continued, 
 rather between the ships than the men, at a dis- 
 tance, the Carthaginians seemed successful ; but 
 when the Romans came to grapple with them, 
 the difference between a mercenary army, and 
 one that fought for fame, was apparent. The 
 resolution of the Romans was crowned with suc- 
 cess J the enemies' fleet was dispersed, and fifty- 
 four of their vessels taken. The consequence of 
 this victory was an immediate descent upon the 
 coasts of Africa, and the capture of the city Clu- 
 pea, together with twenty thousand men, who 
 were made prisoners of war. 
 
 The senate being informed of these great 
 successes, and applied to for fresh instructions, 
 commanded Manlius back to Italy, in order to 
 superintend the Sicilian war, and directed that 
 Regulus should continue in Africa, to prosecute 
 his victories there ; but as his consulship was 
 expiring, they continued him their general un- 
 der the title of Proconsul. Happy in the appro- 
 bation of his country, Regulus continued his 
 successes, and led his forces along the banks of 
 the river Bragrada. Here, while he was waiting 
 for the approach of the Carthaginians, a serpent 
 of enormous size attacked his men as they went 
 for water, and seemed as if resolved to guard 
 the banks of the river. It was a hundred and 
 twenty feet long, with scales impenetrable to any 
 weapon. Some of the boldest troops at first
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 219 
 
 went up to oppose its fury; but they soon fell 
 victims to their rashness, being either killed by 
 its devouring jaws, or crushed to pieces by the 
 windings of its tail. The poisonous vapour that 
 issued from it, made it still more formidable ; and 
 the men were so much terrified at its appearance, 
 that they asserted, they would much more joy- 
 fully have faced the whole Carthaginian army. 
 For some time it seemed uncertain which should 
 remain masters of the river, as, from thehardness 
 of its scales, no ordinary efforts could drive it 
 away. At last, Regulus was obliged to make 
 use of the machines employed in battering down 
 the walls of cities. Notwithstanding, the ser- 
 pent, for a long time, withstood all his efforts, 
 anddestroyed numbers of his men; but,at length, 
 a very large stone, which was flung from an en- 
 gine, happened to break its spine, and destroyed 
 its motion : by these means the soldiers surround- 
 ed and killed it. Regulus, not less pleased with 
 his victory than if he had gained a battle, ordered 
 its skin to be sent to Rome, where it continued 
 to be seen till the time of Pliny. 
 
 Meanwhile the Carthaginians, finding the 
 Romans proceeding towards their very capital, 
 brought out a considerable army to oppose them. 
 A battle ensued, in which Carthage was once 
 more defeated, and some of its best troops were 
 cut off. This fresh victory contributed to throw 
 them into the utmost despair ;• more than eighty 
 of their towns submitted to the Romans. The 
 Numidians, their ancient allies, rose against them
 
 220 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 at the same time, and combined to ravage the 
 country. The peasants, who fled on every side, 
 flocked into Carthage, as to the only place of re- 
 fuge, and brought with them only misery and 
 famine. In this distress, the Carthaginians, de- 
 stitute of generals at home who had abilities to 
 oppose the conqueror, were obliged to send to 
 Lacedaemon, offering the command of their armies 
 toXantippus, a commander of great experience, 
 who undertook to conduct them. They, at the 
 same time, dispatched some of the principal men 
 of the state to Regulus to beg a peace. The Ro- 
 man general had long wished to terminate the 
 war, and go back to his native country. He 
 had even sent to the senate some time before, de- 
 manding a successor, and leave to return, in con- 
 sequence of an account he had received, inform- 
 ing him, that his steward who cultivated his es- 
 tate, which consisted but of seven acres, was dead, 
 and that his servant had stolen all the instru* 
 ments of husbandry that were used in its cultiva- 
 tion. He informed the senate, that while he was 
 leading on the armies of the state, his wife and 
 children were in danger of wanting bread; and 
 that his little domestic affairs required his pre- 
 sence at home. The senate upon this ordered 
 a sufficient maintenance for his wife and child- 
 ren; furnished his estate with proper instru- 
 ments of husbandry at the public expence, 
 and gave him orders to continue at the head of 
 the army. "When the Carthaginians therefore 
 sent proposals of peace, he was very much in-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. 221 
 
 dined to come to treaty ; but in some measure 
 considering himself as master of Carthage, he 
 thought it was his duty to dictate the terms. 
 These were, that Carthage should give up all the 
 cities they were possessed of in Sicily and Sar- 
 dinia; that they should deliver up all their pri- 
 soners without reward, and at the same time 
 ransom those that were made of their own. These 
 and some other conditions of the same nature 
 were offered, but the Carthaginians thinking 
 them too rigid, the treaty broke off, and both 
 sides prepared for war. 
 
 Xantippus, the Lacedaemonian general, was 
 arrived by this time, and gave the magistrates 
 proper instructions for levying their men : he 
 assured them that their armies were hitherto 
 overthrown, not by the strength of the enemy, 
 but the ignorance of their own generals : he 
 therefore only required a ready obedience to 
 his orders, and assured them of an easy victory. 
 The whole city seemed once more revived from 
 despondence, by the exhortations of a single 
 stranger, and soon, from hope, grew into confi- 
 dence. This was the spirit the Grecian general 
 wished to excite in them ; so that when he saw 
 them thus ripe for the engagement, he joyfully 
 took the field. The forces on both sides were 
 but few 'y the Carthaginian army consisting only 
 of twelve thousand foot and four thousand 
 horse; thosLe of the Romans, of about the same, 
 or rather a superior number. The first circum- 
 stance which alarmed Regulus, was to find the
 
 222 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 enemy alter their plan of encampment, and 
 make a new choice of their ground. They had 
 hitherto chosen the most woody and unequal 
 places, where their cavalry were embarrassed, 
 and their elephants utterly unserviceable. They 
 now continually kept in the open country, and 
 so harassed the Roman army, that, at length, 
 Regulus was obliged to descend into the plain, 
 and cross the river to give them battle. The 
 Lacedaemonian made the most skilful disposition 
 of his forces; he placed his cavalry in the wings, 
 he disposed the elephants at proper intervals 
 behind the line of heavy-armed infantry, and 
 bringing up the light-armed troops before, he 
 ordered them to retire through the line of infan- 
 try, after they had discharged their weapons. 
 This was a most masterly disposition, and such 
 as was useful to the Romans in succeeding en- 
 gagements, though it was fatal to them in this. 
 For now both armies engaging, after a long 
 and obstinate resistance, the Romans were over- 
 thrown with dreadful slaughter, the greatest 
 part of their army being destroyed, and Regu- 
 lus himself taken prisoner. A victory so great 
 and unexpected, filled the streets of Carthage 
 with ungovernable joy ; they could never suf- 
 ficiently satisfy themselves with gazing on the 
 conqueror, though he was but small of stature, 
 and of a very mean appearance. But this dis- 
 position was but of short continuance, for soon 
 their admiration was turned into envy. They 
 could not bear to owe to a stranger that safety.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 223 
 
 which they wanted abilities and virtue to pro- 
 cure for themselves. Xantippus, however, who 
 knew their malignity, and who never much 
 prided himself upon their barbarous praise, was 
 desirous of lessening their malevolence by re- 
 moving the cause : he therefore requested per- 
 mission to return home, and desired a ship for 
 that purpose. Their ingratitude on this occa- 
 sion, if historians say true, was even more 
 shocking than their former antipathy; for, pre- 
 tending to furnish him with the most honour- 
 able conveyance, the mariners had private orders 
 to throw him and his companions overboard, 
 lest the honour of obtaining so great a victory 
 should be taken from them, to be ascribed to 
 a stranger. 
 
 However this may be, the affairs of the Car- 
 thaginians for some time went on to improve, 
 while those of Rome seemed to be declining. 
 The remains of the Roman army were besieged 
 in Clupea, a city on the coast of Africa, which 
 Regulus had taken ; and though it was for a 
 while relieved by means of a naval victory under 
 the conduct of^Emilius Paulus, yet they were 
 obliged to evacuate the place. Soon after, the 
 Romans lost their whole fleet in a storm; and 
 Agrigentum, their principal town in Sicily, was 
 taken by Karthalo, the Carthaginian general. 
 The Romans, not easily to be deterred, undertook 
 to build a new fleet, which also shared the fate 
 of the former; the mariners, as yet unacquainted 
 with the Mediterranean shores, drove it upon
 
 224 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 quicksands; and soon after, the greatest part 
 perished in a storm. Thus distressed in every 
 naval attempt, they, for a while, gave up all 
 hopes of rivalling the Carthaginians at sea, and 
 placed all their hopes in the conquest of Sicily, 
 which they in a great measure effected. Mean 
 time, the Carthaginians being now more suc- 
 cessful than when they had formerly made pro- 
 posals of peace, were desirous of a new treaty, 
 hoping to have better terms than tliose insisted 
 upon before. They, therefore, resolved to send 
 to Rome to negotiate this business, or at least 
 to procure an exchange of prisoners. For this 
 purpose they supposed that Regulus, whom 
 they had now for four years kept in a dungeon 
 confined and chained, would be a proper soli- 
 citor. It was expected, that being wearied with 
 imprisonment and bondage, he would gladly en- 
 deavour to persuade his countrymen to a dis- 
 continuance of the war, which only prolonged 
 his captivity. He was accordingly sent with their 
 ambassadors to Rome, but with a promise pre- 
 viously exacted from him, to return in case of 
 being unsuccessful. He was even given to un- 
 derstand, that his life depended upon the success 
 of the expedition. 
 
 When this old general, together with the am- 
 bassadors of Carthage, approached Rome, num- 
 bers of his friends came out to meet and coii<^ra- 
 tulate his return. Their acclamations resounded 
 through the city ; but Regulus refused with settled 
 melancholy to enter the gates. It was in vain
 
 COMMONWEALTH- OF ROME. 225 
 
 that he was entreated on every side to visit once 
 more his little dwelling, and share in that joy 
 which his return had inspired. He persisted in 
 saying, that he was now but a slave belonging to 
 the Carthaginians, and unfit to partake in the 
 liberal honours of his country. The senate as- 
 sembling without the walls, as usual, to give au- 
 dience to the enemies' ambassadors; Regulus 
 opened his commission as he had been directed 
 by the Carthaginian council, and their ambassa- 
 dors seconded his proposals. The senate were, 
 by this time, themselves weary of a war which had 
 been protracted above eight years, and were no 
 way disinclinable to a peace. It seemed the ge- 
 neral opinion, that the enmity between the two 
 states had continued too long, and that no terms 
 should be refused, which would not only give 
 rest to the two nations, but liberty to an old ge 
 neral, whom the people reverenced and loved. It 
 only remained for Regulus himself to give his 
 opinion; who, when it came to his turn to speak, 
 to the surprise of all the world, gave his voice for 
 continuing the war. He assured the senate, that 
 the Carthaginian resources were now almost ex- 
 hausted; their populace harassed out with fatigues, 
 and their nobles with contention: that all their 
 best generals were prisoners with the Romans, 
 while Carthage had none but the refuse of the 
 Roman army : that not only the interest of Rome, 
 but its honour also, was concerned in continuing 
 the war, for their ancestors had never made peace 
 till they were victorious. So unexpected an ad- 
 
 VOL. I. 0,
 
 226 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 vice not a little disturbed the senate : they saw 
 the justice of his opinion, but they also saw the 
 dangers he incurred by giving it: they seemed 
 entirely satisfied of the expediency of prolonging 
 the war; their only obstacle was how to secure 
 the safety of him, who had advised its continu- 
 ance: they pitied, as well as admired, a man who 
 had used such eloquence against his private in- 
 terest, and could not conclude upon a measure 
 which was to terminate in his ruin. Regulus, 
 however, soon relieved their embarrassment, by 
 breaking off the treaty, and rising in order to re- 
 turn to his bonds and confinement. It was in 
 vain that the senate and all his dearest friends 
 entreated his stay; he still repressed their solici- 
 tations. Maria, his wife, with her little children, 
 filled the city with her lamentations, and vainly 
 entreated to be permitted to see him: he still 
 obstinately persisted in keeping his promise; and 
 though he was sufficiently apprised of the tor- 
 tures that awaited his return, without embracing 
 his family, or taking leave of his friends, he de- 
 parted with the ambassadors for Carthage. No- 
 thing could equal the fury and the disappoint- 
 ment of the Carthaginians, when they were in- 
 formed by their ambassadors of Regulus, instead 
 of hastening a peace, having given his opinion 
 for continuing the war. First, his eyelids were cut 
 off, and then he was remanded to prison. He 
 was, after some days, brought out and exposed 
 with his face opposite the burning sun. At last, 
 when malice was fatigued with studying all the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 227 
 
 arts of torture, he was put into a barrel stuck full 
 of nails that pointed inwards, and in this pain- 
 ful position he continued till he died. 
 
 Both sides now took up arms with more than 
 former animosity. The Romans who were in- 
 flexible in their purposes, although they had so 
 many times been wrecked at sea, and had lost 
 such numbers of their bravest troops there, once 
 more fitted out a fleet, and again bid defiance 
 to Carthage. It seemed, however, as if for- 
 tune was resolved to drive them from this un- 
 stable element; for by the bad conduct of Clau- 
 dius Pulcher, their consul, and by other various 
 disasters, their fleet was destroyed like all the for- 
 mer, and the Romans seemed drained of every re- 
 source to furnish out a new one. In consequence 
 of this, they were obliged to abstain for seven, 
 years from all naval preparations. But their 
 spirit was not to be broken; they yet again re- 
 solved to build another fleet, and to try their 
 wayward fortune in forming a naval power. 
 At length, their perseverance was crowned with 
 success, one victory followed on the back of 
 another. Fabius Buteo, the consul, showed them 
 the way, by defeating a large squadron of the 
 enemies' ships ; but Lutatius Catulus gained a 
 victory still more complete, in which the power 
 of Carthage seemed totally destroyed at sea, by 
 the loss of a hundred and tv/enty ships, accord- 
 ing to the smallest computation. This loss 
 brought them to sue for peace, which Rome 
 thought proper to grant; but, still inflexible in
 
 228 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 its demands, exacted the same conditions which 
 Regulus had formerly offered at the gates of 
 Carthage. These were, that the Carthaginians 
 should lay down a thousand talents of silver, 
 to defray the charge of the war; and should pay 
 two thousand two hundred more, in ten years* 
 time : that they should quit Sicily, with all such 
 islands as they possessed near it : that they should 
 never make war against the allies of Rome, 
 or come with any vessels of war within the 
 Roman dominions: and lastly, that all their 
 prisoners and deserters should be delivered up 
 without ransom. To these hard conditions the 
 Carthaginians,nowexhausted,readily subscribed: 
 and thus ended the first Punic war, which had 
 u. c. lasted twenty-four years, and, in some mea- 
 513. sure, had drained both nations of every 
 resource to begin anew. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 From the End of the First Punk War to the End of 
 the Second. 
 
 The war being ended between the Carthagi- 
 nians and Romans, a profound peace ensued; 
 and in about six years after the temple of Janus 
 was shut for the second time since the founda- 
 tion of the city, Rome being thus in friendship
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. Q39 
 
 with all nations, had an opportunity of turning 
 to the arts of peace; they now began to have a 
 relish for poetry, the first liberal art which rises 
 in every civilized nation, and the first also that 
 decays. Hitherto they had been entertained 
 only with the rude drolleries of their lowest buf- 
 foons: they had sports called Fescennini, in 
 which a few debauched actors made their own 
 parts, while raillery and smut supplied the place 
 of humour. To these a composition of a higher 
 kind succeeded, which they called satire; which 
 was a kind of dramatic poem, in which the cha- 
 racters of the great were particularly pointed 
 out, and made an object of derision to the vulgar. 
 After these, came tragedy and comedy, which 
 were borrowed from the Greeks; and indeed the 
 first dramatic poet of Rome, whose name was 
 Livius Andronicus, was by birth a Grecian. 
 The instant these finer kinds of composi- u. c. 
 tion appeared, this great people rejected -^H. 
 their former impurities with disdain. From 
 thenceforward they laboured upon the Grecian 
 model; and though they were never able to rival 
 their masters in dramatic composition, they soon 
 surpassed them in many of the more soothing 
 kinds of poetry. Elegiac, pastoral, and didactic 
 compositions, began to assume new beauties in 
 the Roman language; and satire, not that rude 
 kind of dialogue already mentioned, but a nobler 
 sort, invented by Lucilius, was all their own. 
 
 While they were thus admitting the arts of 
 peace, they were not unmindful of making fresh
 
 230 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 preparations for war; all intervals of ease seemed 
 rather to give fresh vigour for new designs, than 
 to relax their former intrepidity. The Illyrians 
 were the first people upon whom they tried their 
 strength, after some continuance of peace, That 
 nation, which had long plundered the merchants 
 of the Mediterranean with impunity, happened 
 to make depredations upon some of the trading 
 subjects of Rome. This being complained of to 
 Teuta, the queen of the country, she, instead of 
 granting redress, ordered the ambassador that 
 was sent to demand restitution, to be murdered. 
 A war ensued, in which the Romans were victo- 
 rious. Most of the Illyric towns were surren- 
 dered to the consuls, and a peaceatlast concluded, 
 by which the greatest part of the country was 
 ceded to Rome, a yearly tribute exacted for the 
 rest, and a prohibition added, that the Illyrians 
 should not sail beyond the river Lissus with 
 more than two barks, and those unarmed. 
 
 The Gauls were the next people that incurred 
 the displeasure of the Romans. Supposing a 
 time of peace, when the armies were disbanded, 
 a proper season for new irruptions, this barbarous 
 people invitingfresh forces from beyond the Alps, 
 and entering Etruria, wasted all with fire and 
 sword, till they came within about three days* 
 journey of Rome. A praetor and a consul were 
 sent to oppose them ; who now instructed in the 
 improved arts of war, were enabled to surround 
 the Gauls, who still retained their primaeval bar- 
 barity. It was in vain that those hardy troops.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 231 
 
 who had nothing but their courage to protect 
 them, formed two fronts to oppose their adversa- 
 ries; their naked bodies and undisciplined forces 
 were unable to withstand the shock of an enemy 
 completely armed and skilled in military evolu- 
 tions. A miserable slaughter ensued, in which 
 forty thousand were killed, and ten thousand 
 taken prisoners. This victory was followed by 
 another gained over them by Marcellus, in which 
 he killed Viridomarus their king, with his own 
 hand, and gained the third royal spoils that were 
 yet obtained at Rome. These conquests forced 
 them to beg a peace, the conditions of which 
 served greatly to enlarge the empire. Thus the 
 Romans went on with success; they had now 
 totally recovered their former losses, and only 
 wanted an enemy worthy of their arms to begin 
 a new war. 
 
 An occasion soon offered to renew their mili- 
 tary aims. The Carthaginians, who only made 
 a peace because they were no longer able to 
 continue the war, took the earliest opportunity 
 of breaking the treaty : they besieged Saguntum, 
 a city of Spain, which had been in alliance with 
 Rome ; and, though desired to desist, prosecuted 
 their operations with vigour. Ambassadors were 
 sent, in consequence, from Rome to Carthage, 
 complaining of the infraction of their articles, 
 and requiring that Hannibal, the Carthaginian 
 general, who had advised this measure, should 
 be delivered up. This demand being refused, 
 the ambassador began to perceive their inclinafi
 
 232 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 tioiis for a rupture : and holding out the skirt of 
 his robe, as was the custom, told the Carthagi- 
 nian ministry, that he brought them peace or 
 war, of which they might choose. They desired 
 him to deliver which he thought proper; to 
 which he returned, " Then let it be war," and 
 thus leaving the assembly, returned to Rome, 
 u. c. War being thus again declared between 
 536. these great rival powers, the Cartha- 
 ginians trusted the management of it on their side 
 to Hannibal, the son of Amilcar, their former 
 general. Hannibal had been made the sworn 
 foe of Rome, almost from his infancy ; for while 
 yet very young, his father brought him before 
 the altar, and obliged him to take an oath, never 
 to be in friendship with the Romans, nor desist 
 from opposing their power, until he or they 
 should be no more. On his first appearance in 
 the field, he reconciled, in his own person, the 
 most just method of commanding, with the most 
 perfect obedience to his superiors. Thus he 
 was equally beloved by his generals and the 
 troops he was appointed to lead. He was pos- 
 sessed of the greatest courage in opposing danger, 
 and the greatest presence of mind in retiring from 
 it. No fatigue was able to subdue his body or 
 break his spirit: equally patient of heat and 
 cold, he only took sustenance to content nature, 
 and not to delight his appetite. His seasons for 
 repose or labour were never marked, but he was 
 ever ready when difficulties, or his country, de- 
 manded his aid. He was frequently found
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 233 
 
 stretched on the ground among his sentinels, 
 covered only with a watch-coat. His dress dif- 
 fered in nothing from the most ordinary man of 
 his army, except that he affected peculiar ele- 
 gance in his horses and armour. He was the 
 best horseman, and the swiftest runner, of his 
 time. He was ever the foremost to engage, and 
 the last to retreat ; he was ever prudent in his 
 designs, which were extensive ; and ever fertile 
 in expedients to perplex his enemies, or to res- 
 cue himself from hardships. He was experienced, 
 sagacious, provident, and bold. Such were the 
 admirable qualities of this inimitable soldier, who 
 is generally allowed the greatest general of all 
 antiquity; but, on the other hand, he was cruel 
 and faithless, without honour, without religion, 
 and yet so deceitful, as to assume the appearance 
 of them all ; yet after all we must remember, 
 that it is his enemies who gave him his charac- 
 ter. From such a soldier and politician the Car- 
 thaginians formed the greatest expectations; and 
 his taking Saguntum shortly after, confirmed 
 them in their opinion of his abilities. But he 
 soon gave proofs of a much more extensive genius 
 than they could have conceived ; for having over- 
 run all Spain, and levied a large army of various 
 languages and nations, he resolved to carry the 
 war into Italy, as the Romans had before car- 
 ried it into the dominions of Carthage. For this 
 purpose, leaving Hanno with a sufficient force 
 to guard his conquests in Spain, he crossed the 
 Pyrenean mountains into Gaul, with an army of
 
 234 THE HISTORY 0;F the 
 
 fifty thousand foot and nine thousand horse. 
 He quickly traversed that country, which was 
 then wild, extensive, and filled with inimical na- 
 tions. In vain its forests and rivers appeared to 
 intimidate him; the Rhone with its rapid cur- 
 rent, and its banks covered with enemies, or the 
 Dura branched out into numberless channels, 
 opposed his way ; he passed them all with per- 
 severance, and in ten days arrived at the foot of 
 the Alps, over which he was to explore a new 
 passage into Italy. It was now in the midst of 
 winter, when this astonishing project was un- 
 dertaken; the season added new horrors to a 
 scene, that nature had alread}^ crowded with ob- 
 jects of dismay. The prodigious height and tre- 
 mendous steepness of the mountains capped with 
 snow ; the rude cottages that seemed to hang 
 upon the sides of the precipices ; the cattle, and 
 even the wild beasts themselves, stiff with cold, 
 or desperate with famine ; the people barbarous 
 and fierce, dressed in skins with long shaggy 
 hair, presented a picture that impressed the be- 
 holders with astonishment and terror. But no- 
 thing was capable of subduing the courage of 
 the Carthaginian general; after having harangued 
 his army, he undertook to lead them up the sides 
 of the mountain, assuring his soldiers, that they 
 were now scaling, not the walls of Italy but of 
 Rome. 
 
 The soldiers in this march had not vain fears 
 alone to combat, but with numberless and 
 unforeseen calamities. The intenseness of the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 235 
 
 cold, the height of the precipices, the smooth- 
 ness of the ice, but above all, the opposition of 
 the inhabitants, who assailed them from above, 
 and rolled down huge rocks upon them in their 
 march, all contributed to dispirit the army. At 
 length, after nine days* painful march through 
 these untrodden paths, Hannibal gained the top 
 of the mountains, where he rejoiced his soldiers, 
 by showing them the charming and fertile vales 
 of Italy, which were stretched out beneath. 
 After two days' respite, he next prepared to 
 descend, and this was found a work of more 
 danger even than the former. Prodigious quan- 
 tities of snow having lately fallen, as many 
 were swallowed up in that, as had before been 
 destroyed by the enemy. Every new advance 
 seemed but to increase the danger, till at last 
 he came to the verge of a precipice above three 
 hundred yards perpendicular, which seemed 
 utterly impassable. It was then that despair 
 appeared in every face but Hannibal's ; but he 
 still remained unshaken : his first effort was to 
 endeavour by taking a circuit to find a more 
 commodious passage; but finding this only in- 
 crease his difficulty, he resolved to undertake 
 levelling the rock. For this purpose, great num- 
 bers of large trees were felled, and a mighty 
 pile made against it and set on fire. The rock 
 being thus heated, says Livy, was softened by 
 vinegar, and a passage opened through which 
 the whole army might safely pass. This seemed 
 to be the end of the difficulties of this march ;
 
 236 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 for as he descended, the valleys between the 
 mountains became more fertile, so that the cat- 
 tle found pasture, and the soldiers had time to 
 repose. Thus, at the end of fifteen days spent 
 in crossing the Alps, Hannibal found himself 
 in the plains of Italy, with about half his army 
 remaining, the rest having died or been cut off 
 in their march. 
 
 As soon as it was known at Rome, that 
 HannitDal, at the head of an immense army, 
 VN^as crossing the Alps, in order to invade their 
 dominions, the senate sent Scipio to oppose him, 
 as a general on whom they placed great depend- 
 ence, Scipio being desirous of making his 
 principal effort while Hanibal's army was not 
 yet recovered from the fatigues of their march, 
 brought up his forces, and attacked him near 
 Ticinium. The engagement was for some time 
 doubtful ; but a party of Numidian horse wheel- 
 ing round, attacked the Romans in the rear, 
 and at last obliged them to retreat with consi- 
 derable loss. The consul was wounded in the 
 beginning of the fight, and would have fallen 
 into the hands of the enemy, had not his son 
 Scipio, afterwards called Africanus, opposed 
 himself to the shock of the engagement, and 
 saved his father's life at the hazard of his own. 
 Hannibal being thus victorious, took the most 
 prudent precautions to increase his army, giving 
 orders to Mago, his general of the cavalry, that 
 when he ravaged the country round, always to 
 spare the possessions of the Gauls, while his de-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ItOMfi. 237 
 
 predations were permitted upon those of Rome. 
 This so pleased that simple people, that they de- 
 clared for him in great numbers, and flocked to 
 his standard with alacrity. 
 
 Soon after this defeat, Sempronius, the other 
 consul, was resolved to repair the injury sustained 
 by his colleague ; and seeing the continual de- 
 fection of the Gauls, going off to increase the 
 strength of the Punic army, he determined to give 
 battle the first opportunity. Hannibal was not 
 long in delaying his expectations ; and both ar- 
 mies met upon the banks of the river Trebia. 
 The Carthaginian general being apprised of the 
 Roman impetuosity, of which he always availed 
 himself in almost every engagement, had sent off 
 a body of a thousand horse, each with a foot- 
 soldier behind him, across the river, to ravage 
 the enemies' country, and provoke them to en- 
 gage. The Romans quickly routed this force : 
 who seeming to be defeated, took the river, and 
 were as eagerly pursued by the consul. It was 
 not however, till his army was got upon the 
 opposite bank, that he perceived himself half 
 conquered already, his men being fatigued by 
 wading up to the arm-pits, and quite benumbed 
 by the intense coldness of the water. But it was 
 now too late to retire ; for Hannibal came 
 pouring down his forces, fresh and vigorous, so 
 that the battle soon became general. The cou- 
 rage of the Romans for a while withstood every 
 disadvantage, and kept the victory doubtful ; 
 but they soon found themselves attacked also in
 
 238 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the rear by a party of horse, which the Cartha- 
 ginian general had laid in ambush to be ready on 
 this occasion. At length a total rout ensued ^ 
 twenty-six thousand of the Romans were either 
 killed by the enemy or drowned in attempting to 
 repass the river. A body of ten thousand men 
 were all that survived j who finding themselves 
 enclosed on every side, broke desperately through 
 the enemies' ranks, and fought retreating, till 
 they found shelter in the city of Placentia. 
 
 The loss of these two battles only served to 
 increase the caution of Hannibal and the vigi- 
 lance of Rome. Preparations for the ensuing 
 campaign were carried on with greater vigour 
 than before ; and the Carthaginian general, find- 
 ing himself in a condition to change the seat of 
 the war, resolved to approach Rome, by march- 
 ing into Etruria. There were two ways for 
 effecting his march thither; one more tedious, 
 but secure; the other, which was shorter, led 
 through the marshes, caused by the overflowing 
 of the river Arno. All the former fatigues of 
 the Carthaginian army were nothing, compared 
 to their sufferings here. They were forced to 
 march three days and nights successively, up to 
 the knees in water, without sleep or without 
 rest ; the hoofs of the horses came off in their 
 passage, while the beasts of burthen that carried 
 the baggage, unable to support the fatigue, were 
 left dead in the mud. Hannibal himself riding 
 upon an elephant, which was the only one left 
 alive, felt all the complicated distress of his own
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 239 
 
 situation and that of his army. His health had 
 been impaired in the preceding spring, and hav- 
 ing then an inflammation in his eyes, he, by his 
 present fatigues, lost one of them entirely. At 
 last, however, he arrived upon dry ground, where 
 he was informed, that Flaminius, the consul, 
 was encamped near Aricia, waiting the arrival 
 of the other consul with reinforcements from 
 Rome. One of Hannibal's chief excellencies in 
 war, was the care he took to inform himiSelf of 
 the temper and disposition of the generals who 
 opposed him ; and finding that Flaminius was 
 rash and overbearing, swoln with his former 
 successes, and confident of the future, he re- 
 solved to bring him to an engagement before 
 his colleague could come up. Seeming, there- 
 fore, to take no notice of his army, that lay in 
 the direct road towards Rome, he left it on one 
 side ; and marching onward, as if to besiege the 
 capital itself, he ravaged the whole country 
 round in a terrible manner with fire and sword. 
 Flaminius, as was expected, could not tamely 
 bear to see an insulting enemy laying every 
 thing waste before him, but burned for the en- 
 gagement. It was in vain that he was advised 
 by the senate, and all about him, to use caution, 
 and not to let the enemy's insults provoke him 
 to an unequal combat. He immediately ordered 
 his troops to march, his friends foreboding their 
 future danger, while the soldiers went rejoic- 
 ing in the courage of their general, and indulg- 
 ing their hopes rather than considering the
 
 240 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 reasons they had for hoping. Hannibal was 
 with his army, at the time when Flaminius 
 came out to engage him, at the lai^e of Thra- 
 symene, near to which was a chain of moun- 
 tains, and between these and the lake, a nar- 
 row passage leading to a valley that was em- 
 bosomed in hills. It was upon these hills that 
 he disposed his best troops, and it was into this 
 valley that Flaminius led his men to attack 
 him. A disposition every way so favourable 
 for the Carthaginians, was also assisted by acci- 
 dent; for a mist rising from the Jake, kept the 
 Romans from seeing their enemies, while the 
 army upon the mountains being above its in- 
 fluence, saw the whole disposition of their op- 
 ponents. The fortune of the day was such as 
 might be expected from the conduct of the two 
 generals; the Roman army was broken and 
 slaughtered almost before they could perceive 
 the enemy that destroyed them. About fifteen 
 thousand Romans fell in the valley, and six 
 thousand more were obliged to yield themselves 
 prisoners of war. In this general carnage, the 
 unfortunate Flaminius did all that courage 
 could inspire, to save his army: wherever the 
 enemy was most successful, he flew with a cho- 
 sen body of his attendants to repress them; at 
 last, despairing of victory, and unwilling to 
 survive a defeat, he flung himself alone into the 
 midst of the enemy, and was killed by a Gaulish 
 horseman, who struck him through the body 
 with a blow of his lance. Hannibal, after the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 241 
 
 battle, kept the Roman prisoners, but civilly dis- 
 missed those of the Latins; and willing to give 
 the consul an honourable interment, he sought 
 his body amongst the heaps of slain, but it could 
 not be found. 
 
 Upon the news of this defeat at Rome, after 
 the general consternation was allayed, the senate, 
 upon mature deliberation, resolved to elect a 
 commander with absolute authority, in whom 
 they might repose their last and greatest ex- 
 pectations. Their choice fell upon Fabius 
 Maximus, a man of great courage, but with a 
 happy mixture of caution j less enraptured with 
 the glare of victory, than the consciousness of 
 deserving it. This old commander, thus invested 
 with the supreme dignity, set forward with 
 what preparations he was able to make, but 
 with no intentions of fighting an enemy whom 
 he knew more powerful than himself. He had 
 long before setting out laid a plan by which to 
 proceed, and to that he strictly adhered during 
 all the ensuing campaigns. He was apprised 
 that the only way to humble the Carthaginians 
 at such a distance from home, was rather by ha- 
 rassing them than by fighting. For this purpose, 
 he always encamped upon the highest grounds, 
 inaccessible to the enemy's cavalry. Whenever 
 they moved he moved, watched their motions, 
 straitened their quarters, and cut off their 
 provisions. It was in vain that Hannibal used 
 every stratagem to bring him to a battle ; the 
 cautious Roman, thence surnamed Cunctator, 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 still kept aloof, contented with seeing his enemy 
 in some measure defeated by delay. Hannibal 
 now therefore, perceiving that his adversaries 
 had altered their plan of operations, tried his 
 usual arts to make Fabius appear despicable to 
 his own army. He sometimes, therefore, braved 
 him in his camp, he sometimes wasted the coun- 
 try round him, talked of his abilities with con- 
 tempt, and in all his excursions spared the pos- 
 sessions of Fabius, while those of the other 
 Romans were plundered without mercy. These 
 arts in some measure succeeded : the Romans 
 began to suspect their general either of cow- 
 ardice or treachery j and a slight action that 
 ensued a little after, gave strength to their sus- 
 picions. For Hannibal designing to march, for 
 the convenience of forage, to a place called 
 Cassinum, he was, by a mistake of his guide, 
 conducted towards Cassilium, where he found 
 himself in a close country, hemmed in on every 
 side. However, willing to draw all the advan- 
 tages he was able from his situation, he ordered 
 his cavalry to pillage the country round, which 
 the Roman army, that still kept him in view, 
 beheld from a neighbouring hill. Hannibal 
 knew that his depredations would excite them 
 to a desire of revenge; but it was in vain they 
 cried out to their phlegmatic general, to lead 
 them down upon the enemy. Fabius still kept 
 his post, contrary to all the entreaties of his men, 
 and even the expostulations of Minucius, his 
 Biast«r of the horse, it was now theiefore
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 243 
 
 found, that the prudent Roman began to prac- 
 tise HannibaPs own stratagems against himself; 
 he had now enclosed him among mountains 
 where it was impossible to winter, and yet from 
 which it was almost impracticable to extricate 
 his army without imminent danger. In this exi- 
 gence, nothing but one of those stratagems of 
 war which fall to the lot of great abilities only 
 to invent, could save him. Hannibal's amazing 
 fertility in expedients suggested one at this 
 time which was successful : he ordered a num- 
 ber of small faggots and lighted torches to be 
 tied to the horns of two thousand oxen that 
 he had in his camp, and that they should be 
 driven towards the enemy. These tossing their 
 heads, and running up the sides of the moun- 
 tains, seemed to fill the whole neighbouring 
 forest with fire ; while the sentinels that were 
 placed to guard the approaches of the moun- 
 tains, seeing such a number of flames advancing 
 towards their posts, fled in consternation, sup- 
 posing the whole body of the enemy was in 
 arms to overwhelm them. By this stratagem, 
 Hannibal drew off his army, and escaped through 
 the defiles that led beneath the hills, though 
 with considerable damage to his rear. Although 
 Fabius had conducted himself in this expedition 
 with all the prudence and conduct of the most 
 consummate general, he could not prevent the 
 murmurs of his army, who now began to tax 
 his ignorance in war, as they had formerly im- 
 peached his valour and fidelity. 
 
 R S
 
 214 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Fabius, no way solicitous to quiet the mur- 
 murs either of his army or of the citizens them- 
 selves, returned to Rome, in order to raise money 
 to ransom some Roman prisoners whom Hanni- 
 bal offered to release : but, in the mean time, he 
 gave instructions to Minucius, his master of the 
 horse, to abstain from giving the enemy battle, 
 upon any occasion whatsoever. Minucius, how- 
 ever, who now began to have the same opinion 
 of the dictator that the rest of the soldiers enter- 
 tained of him, little regarded his instructions; 
 but venturing out against the Carthaginians, 
 skirmished with such success, that by universal 
 consent he was made equal in power to the 
 dictator, and both generals were appointed to 
 command, each his own part of the army. 
 Being thus possessed of equal power, Minucius 
 began by altering the former conduct of Fabius. 
 From keeping on the tops of the mountains, he 
 now drew down his part of the army into the 
 plain, and offered the enemy battle. This was 
 the disposition that Hannibal had long wished 
 for; and pretending to be very earnest in taking 
 possession of a hill which commanded the camp 
 of the Romans, he drew the eyes of all to that 
 quarter, while he formed an ambuscade on the 
 other side, with orders to sally forth in the midst 
 of the engagement. The Romans accordingly 
 made a most vigorous attack upon the Cartha- 
 ginians, who had taken possession of the hill, 
 while new reinforcements were sent from either 
 army. At last, Minucius drew out his legions.
 
 eOMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 245 
 
 and the engagement became general. It was 
 then that the superior conduct of the Carthagi- 
 nian commander was discovered ; forthe men who 
 were placed in ambush sallying forth upon the 
 rear, began to throw the whole Roman army 
 into confusion; and nothing less than a total de- 
 feat threatened to ensue. In the mean time, 
 Fabius, who was returned from Rome, after soli- 
 citing an exchange of prisoners, and after selling 
 all his little patrimony, to raise a sum which he 
 was denied by the senate, to pay their ransom, 
 eame in while Minucius was in this desperate 
 situation. He did not long hesitate upon the 
 course he should pursue, but falling upon the 
 Carthaginians at once stopped the flight of the 
 Romans, and obstructed the enemies' pursuit. 
 Hannibal now perceived, that the cloud which 
 had so long hovered upon the mountains, at last 
 broke upon him in a storm ; he was obliged to 
 command a retreat; while Minucius was so con- 
 vinced of his former rashness, that he confessed 
 his error to Fabius, whom he now called his fa- 
 ther; and renouncing his new power, again sub- 
 jected his office freely to the dictatorship. 
 
 Soon after, however, Fabius was obliged to 
 lay down his office, his time being expired; and 
 a violent contest ensued at Rome, about the 
 proper persons to be elected to the consulship. 
 The patricians and the plebeians, as usual, tak- 
 ing opposite sides, at last the multitude prevail- 
 ed, and Terentius Varro was chosen alone, by 
 the majority of voices in the assembly of the peo-
 
 24^ THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 pfe. This Terentius Varro was a man sprung 
 from the dregs of the people, and with nothing 
 but bis confidence and riches to recommend 
 him. He had long aspired at the highest of- 
 fices of the state; being ignorant, vain, boastful, 
 and confident, but fond of popular applause, 
 and seeking it by all the arts of meanness and 
 adulation. With him was joined yEmilius Pau- 
 lus, of a disposition entirely opposite; expe- 
 rienced in the field, cautious in action, and im- 
 pressed with a thorough contempt of the abili- 
 ties of his plebeian colleague. Fabius, who 
 had just resigned his office, saw, with his usual 
 sagacity, the danger that threatened the state 
 from two such ill-matched commanders; and 
 entreated iEmilius, by all he held dear, to guard 
 against the devices of Hannibal, and the rash- 
 ness of Terentius Varro. However, it was now 
 no time for indulging fearful apprehensions, the 
 enemy being at hand, and the Romans finding 
 themselvesenabledtobringacompetent force into 
 the field, being almost ninety thousand strong. 
 
 Hannibal was at this time encamped near 
 the village of Cannae, with the wind that for a 
 certain season blows still oneway, in his)lrear, 
 which raising great clouds of dust from the 
 parched plains behind, he knew must greatly 
 distress an approaching enemy. In this situa- 
 tion he waited the coming up of the Romans, 
 with an army of forty thousand foot and half 
 that number of cavalry. The two consuls soon 
 appeared to his wish, dividing their forces into
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 247 
 
 two parts, and agreeing to take the command , 
 every day by turns. On the first day of their 
 arrival, it falling to the lot of ^milius to com- 
 mand, he was entirely averse to engaging; and 
 though Hannibal did all that lay in his power, 
 by insulting his men in their camp, and his col- 
 league, by reproaching his timidity, to bring 
 him to a battle, yet he obstinately declined 
 fighting, conscious of the enemy's superior dis- 
 position. The next day however, it being come 
 to Varro's turn to command, he, without asking 
 his colleague's concurrence, gave the signal for 
 battle, and passing the river Aufidus, that lay 
 between both armies, put his forces in array. 
 The two consuls commanded the two wings, 
 Varro on the right, and iEmilius on the left; to 
 him also was consigned the general conduct of 
 the engagement. On the other hand, Hanni- 
 bal, who had been from day-break employed in 
 the field marshalling his forces as they came up, 
 and inspiring them with courage by his voice 
 and example, had so artfully disposed them, that 
 both the wind and the sun were in his favour. 
 His cavalry were ordered to oppose those of 
 Rome. His heavy-armed African infantry were 
 placed in either wing. These, says the historian, 
 might h-ave been mistaken for a Roman army 
 themselves, being dressed in the spoils of such 
 as were killed at Trebia and Thrasymene. 
 Next these were the Gauls, a fierce people, 
 naked from the waist, bearing large round 
 shields, and swords of an enormous size, blunted
 
 248 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 at the point. The Spaniards were placed in 
 the centre, brandishing short pointed daggers, 
 and dressed in linen vests embroidered with the 
 brightest scarlet. Asdrubal commanded the left 
 wing, the right was given to Maherbal, and 
 Hannibal himself fought on foot in the centre 
 of the army. The battle began with the light- 
 armed infantry 5 the horse engaged soon after, 
 and the Roman cavalry being unable to stand 
 against those of Nuraidia, the legions came up 
 to reinforce them. It was then that the conflict 
 became general j the Roman soldiers, for a long 
 time, endeavoured, but in vain, to penetrate the 
 centre where the Gauls and Spaniards fought; 
 which Hannibal observing, ordered part of those 
 troops to give way, and to permit the Romans to 
 embosom themselves within a chosen body of his 
 Africans, whom he had placed on either wing, 
 so as to surround them; upon that a terrible 
 slaughter began to ensue of the Romans, fatigued 
 by their repeated attacks, by the Africans, who 
 were fresh and vigorous. All the hopes of Rome 
 now lay in the cavalry of the allies, which yet 
 continued unbroken; but even on that side the 
 great art of Hannibal discovered itself: for 
 having ordered five hundred of his Numidian 
 horse, who had daggers concealed under their 
 coats of mail, to go against the enemy, and to 
 make a show of surrendering themselves pri- 
 soners of war; these obeying, and being placed 
 by the allied cavalry, for greater security, in the 
 rear, while they were employed in combating
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 24^ 
 
 the troops that opposed them in front, all of a 
 sudden, these supposed prisoners fell upon them 
 with their daggers from behind, and put them 
 into irrecoverable confusion. Thus the rout at 
 last became general in every part of the Roman 
 army : the boastings of Varro were now no 
 longer heard; while ^Emilms, who had been ter- 
 ribly wounded by a slinger in the very beginning 
 of the engagement, still feebly led on his body 
 of horse, and did all that could be done to make 
 head against the enemy; however, being unable 
 to sit on horseback, he was forced to dismount, 
 as did also those who followed him ; but what 
 could be expected from a measure dictated only 
 by despair 1 Though they fought with great in- 
 trepidity for some time, they were at last obliged 
 to give way, those that were able remounting 
 their horses, and seeking safety by flight. It 
 was in this deplorable condition of things, that 
 one Lentulus, a tribune of the army, as he was 
 flying on horseback from the enemy, which at 
 some distance pursued him, met the consul 
 i^milius sitting upon a stone, covered over with 
 blood and wounds, and waiting for the coming 
 up of the pursuers. " JEmilius," cried the ge- 
 nerous tribune, *' you, at least, are guiltless of 
 ** this day's slaughter: take my horse, while you 
 ** have any strength remaining. I will engage 
 " to assist, and will with my life defend you. 
 " We have already lost blood enough in the 
 ** field ; do not make the day more dreadful by 
 " the loss of a commander." " I thank thee.
 
 fSO THE histohy of the 
 
 " Leiktulus," cried the dymg consul ; *^ for ever 
 ** guard thy virtue, and may the gods reconi- 
 " pense thy piety ; but as for me, all is over, 
 *' nay part is chosen ; do not therefore, by at- 
 ** tennpting to persuade a desperate man, lose 
 " the only means of procuring thine own safetyst, 
 *' Go, I comnaand thee, and tell the senate, 
 ** from roe, to fortify Rome against the ap- 
 " proach of the conqueror. Tell Fabius also 
 " that iEmilius, while living, ever remembered 
 " his advice, and now dying, approves it." 
 While he was yet speaking, the enemy ap- 
 proached ; and, LentuluSi before he was out of 
 ▼iew, saw the consul expire, feebly fighting in 
 thie midst of them. The slaughter had now con^ 
 tinued for several hours, till at last, the conquer- 
 ors qwite wearied with destroying, Hannibal 
 gave orders for them to desist, and led them back 
 to encampment, a large body of Romans having 
 previously surrendered upon condition of being 
 dismissed without arms. In this ba-ttle the Ro- 
 mans lost fifty thousand men, two quaestors, 
 twenty- one tribunes, eighty senators, and so 
 many knights, that it is said, Hannibal seat three 
 bushels of gold rings to Carthage, which those of 
 this order had worn on their fingers. 
 
 This seemed the decisive blow that was to 
 determine the fate of Rome; it only now re- 
 mained, and was universally expected, that 
 Hannibal should march his army to the gates 
 of the city, and make it an easy conquest. 
 This was the advice of Maherbal, his captaia
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. J51 
 
 of the horse; who, when Hannibal rejected 
 it, could not help observing, that the Cartha- 
 ginian general was much more skilful in gain- 
 ing victories, than in improving them. Indeed, 
 the justice of Maherbal's advice seems to ap- 
 pear from the general terror that universally 
 prevailed in Rome at that time. Nothing was 
 heard throughout the city but shrieks and la- 
 mentations of women, who on every side de- 
 manded their husbands or their children. In vain, 
 for a time, could the senators consult together, 
 being disturbed by the cries of the populace. 
 Nothing but terror appeared in every face, and 
 despair was the language of every tongue. At 
 length, when the first consternation was abated, 
 the senate came to a general resolution to cre- 
 ate a dictator, in order to give strength to their 
 government- Orders were also given, to keep 
 all women from coming abroad and spreading 
 the consternation ; strict guards were placed at 
 the city gates, with strict injunctions that none 
 should leave the city. It was at this time that 
 young Scipio, whom we have already seen sav- 
 ing his father's life in battle, was now resolved 
 to save his country also. He was then but a 
 tribune of the army ; and having retired, the 
 night after the battle, to a little town in the 
 neighbourhood of Rome, was informed, that 
 some young men of the first families in the 
 city were at a certain house, preparing to aban- 
 don their country, and resolving to seek for 
 safety elsewhere. He was instantly fdled with
 
 252 THE HISTORT OF THE 
 
 indignation at their pusillanimity ; he, therefore, 
 resolved to prevent that influence which their 
 example might have upon others ; and turning 
 to some of his fellow-soldiers who were with 
 him, " Let those," cried he, " to whom Rome is 
 •^ dear, follow me.*' So saying, he went direct- 
 ly to the house in question, where he found them 
 in actual deliberation. Upon this, laying his 
 hand upon his sword, ** I swear," cried he, "that 
 " I will never abandon Rome, and will never suf- 
 " fer that others should abandon it. Those who 
 " will not take the same oath, are not only their 
 ** country's enemies, but mine." The resolute 
 manner in which he spoke this, together with his 
 known courage, in some measure intimidated the 
 conspirators; they all took the same oath, and 
 vowed, rather than forsake Rome, to stay till 
 they were buried beneath its ruins. Thencefor- 
 ward the people seemed to gather new reso- 
 lution; the senate conceived new hopes of victory, 
 and the augurs gave them assurances of a turn in 
 their favour. A short time after, Varro arrived 
 near Rome, having left behind him the wretch- 
 ed remains of his army : he had been the princi- 
 pal cause of the late calamity ; and it was natural 
 to suppose, that the senate would severely repri- 
 mand the rashness of his conduct. But far other- 
 wise ! The Romans went out in multitudes to 
 meet him ; and the senate returned him thanks, 
 that he had not despaired of the safety of Rome. 
 Such a conquest over all the vindictive passions, 
 was much greater than the victory at Cannse.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 255 
 
 The people being thus, by HannibaFs delay, in- 
 spired with fresh courage, made all possible pre- 
 parations for another campaign. They armed 
 their slaves, and filled up the senate, which want- 
 ed near half its number. Fabius, who was con- 
 sidered as the shield of Rome, and Marcellusas 
 the sword, were appointed to lead the armies; 
 and though Hannibal once more offered them 
 peace, they refused it, but upon condition that 
 he should quit Italy ; terms similar to those they 
 had insisted upon from Pyrrhus before. 
 
 In the mean time Hannibal, either finding 
 the impossibility of marching directly to Rome, 
 or willing to give his forces rest after such a 
 mighty victory, led them to Capua, where he 
 resolved to winter. This city had long been 
 considered as the nurse of luxury and the cor- 
 rupter of all military virtue; here, therefore, a 
 new scene of pleasure opened to his barbarian 
 troops, and they at once gave themselves up to 
 the intoxication, till, from being hardy veterans, 
 they became infirm rioters. For this he has 
 been greatly blamed by antiquity, as losing that 
 happy occasion when fortune seems kind, and 
 exchanging empire for dissipation ; but it is not 
 considered what numberless obstacles he had 
 to. surmount, and what an enemy he had to 
 deal with. Rome was as yet powerful ; it could 
 bring into the field, if we may judge from the 
 latest estimate that was made of its numbers, 
 two hundred thousand fighting men; it might 
 therefore have been rashness itself in Hannibal,
 
 254 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to lead his army to the siege of a city, strongly de* 
 fended by art, and with a garrison more thap four 
 times his equal. We have only to give him cre- 
 dit upon this occasion for what he would have 
 done, by remembering the seeming impossibili- 
 ties which he happily achieved. To have led 
 and maintained a large army, consisting of various 
 nations, more than a thousand miles from home; 
 to have surmounted precipices, which, consider- 
 ing the place he entered Italy, are, to this day, 
 regarded as impassable ; to have fought success- 
 fully, for many years, in the heart of an enemy's 
 country ; to have, by his single presence, united 
 into obedience, and formed into one body, an 
 army composed of Spaniards, Africans, Gauls, 
 and Ligurians, and kept them steady to him, 
 though often wanting bread ; to have an obsti- 
 nate enemy to combat, and faithless employers 
 at home, who retarded, because they envied, his 
 successes: when we consider him as triumphing 
 over all these obstacles by the strength of his own 
 genius only, we view in him the most august 
 spectacle that all antiquity has ever exhibited. 
 
 Hitherto we have found this great man suc- 
 cessful; but now we are to reverse the picture, and 
 survey him struggling with accumulated misfor- 
 tunes, and at last sinking beneath them. His 
 first repulse was from his own countrymen at 
 home. Whilst at Rome, the thanks of the senate 
 were voted to a consul who fled ; at Carthage, 
 Hanno, one of their former generals, began to 
 form a party against Hannibal, and more aa
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 255 
 
 enemy to his rival than to the Romans themselves, 
 forgot nothing that might obstruct the successes 
 he had in prospect, or tarnish the splendour of 
 those he had already obtained. Upon Hannibal'i 
 sending for a new supply of men and money to 
 the senate of Carthage, "What would this man 
 " have asked," cried Hanno, " if he had lost a 
 *« battle, when he makes such draughts upon us 
 *' after gaining a victory ? No, noj he is either 
 " an impostor, that amuses us with false news, 
 " or a public robber, that enriches himself and 
 " not his country." This opposition, the effects 
 of which still continued to operate, delayed the 
 necessary succours, though it could not hinder 
 their tardy compliance. Thus, being frequently 
 destitute of money and provisions, and reduced 
 to the necessity of being always successful, with 
 no recruits of strength in case of ill fortune, and 
 no encouragement even in the good ; it is not to 
 be wondered at that his affairs began at length 
 to decline, and that those of the opposing ge- 
 nerals began to prosper, whose employers ob- 
 served a contrary conduct. 
 
 His first loss was at the siege of Nola, where 
 Marcellus the prastor made a successful sally. 
 He some time after attempted to raise the siege 
 of Capua, and attacked the Romans in their 
 trenches; but he was repulsed with considerable 
 loss. He then made a feint of going to besiege 
 Rome: but finding a superior army ready to re- 
 ceive him, he was obliged to retire. For u. c. 
 some years after, he fought with various 554.
 
 !855 THE HISTORT OF THE 
 
 success ; Marcellus, his opponent, sometimes 
 gaining, and sometimes losing the advantage, but 
 coming to no decisive engagement. However, 
 even victories themselves could not restore the 
 affairs of Hannibal ; for though these might less- 
 en the number of his enemies* forces, he had ex- 
 hausted all the arts of recruiting his own. 
 
 The senate of Carthage at length came to a 
 resolution of sending his brother Asdrubal to his 
 assistance, with a body of forces drawn out of 
 Spain. Asdrubal's march being made known to 
 the consuls, Livius and Nero, they went against 
 him with great expedition, and surrounded him 
 in a place into which he was led by the treach- 
 ery of his guides, and cut his whole army to 
 pieces. Hannibal had long expected these suc- 
 cours with impatience, ; and the very night on 
 which he had been assured of his brother's arri- 
 val, Nero ordered Asdrubal's head to be cut off, 
 and thrown into his camp. He now, therefore, 
 began to perceive the approaches of the down- 
 fall of Carthage ; and could not help, with a sigh, 
 observing to those about him, that fortune seem- 
 ed fatigued with granting favours. 
 
 But it was not in Italy alone, that the affairs 
 of Carthage seemed to decline ; for the Romans, 
 while yet bleeding from their defeat at Cannae, 
 sent legions into Spain, Sardinia, and Sicily. 
 This unconquerable people, surrounded by ene- 
 mies on every side, still found resources to op- 
 pose them all j they not only fought those na- 
 tions, but appointed fresh succours to the few
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 257 
 
 allies that yet adhered to them ; they made head 
 against Hannibal in Italy, and still more, under- 
 took anew war against Philip, kingof Macedon, 
 for having made a league with the Carthaginians. 
 Fortune seemed to favour them in almost all their 
 enterprises. Lsevinus, the consul, gained consi- 
 derable advantages over Philip ; and Marcellus 
 took Syracuse in Sicily, which was defended by 
 the machines and fires of Archimedes the mathe- 
 matician. 
 
 This great city first invited the efforts of the 
 besiegers, as it was generally thought indefensi- 
 ble, and its riches were immense. The Romans 
 therefore sat down before it, with the expecta- 
 tion of a speedy surrender, and immense plunder. 
 But the wisdom of one man alone seemed to 
 suspend its fate; this was Archimedes, the cele- 
 brated mathematician, many of whose works are 
 still remaining; he destroying their men, and 
 demolishing their shipping. He so united the 
 powers of mechanism, that he raised their vessels 
 into the air, and let them dash to pieces by tiie 
 violence of their fall. He also made use of burn- 
 ing glasses, which, at the distance of some hun- 
 dred yards, set the Roman ships and wooden 
 towers on fire. At last, however, the town was 
 taken on a great festival by surprise. The inha- 
 bitants were put to the sword ; and among the 
 rest, Archimedes, who was found meditating in 
 his study, was slain by a Roman soldier. Mar- 
 cellus, the general, was not a little grieved at his 
 death: a passion for letters, at that time, began 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 THE HISTORY Of THE 
 
 to prevail anwvng the higher ranks of people at 
 Roia»e. He therefore ordered his bo^y to he ho- 
 nourably buried, and a lofnb to be ereeted to his 
 menriory, which, however, his works have loug 
 Stttrvived, 
 
 As for their fortunes in Spain, tliough for a 
 while tiiey appeared doubtful, two of the Scipios 
 being slain, and Claudius Nero, the governor of 
 the province, much an undermafech for the cun- 
 ning of the Carthaginian general; yet they soon 
 Fecoveredi their complexion under the conduct 
 of Scipio Africanus, who sued for the office of 
 proconsul for that kingdom, at a time when 
 every one else was willing to decline it. Scipio, 
 who was now but twenty-four years old, had all 
 the qualifications requisite for forming a great 
 general and a good man: he united the greatest 
 courage with the greatest tenderness; superior 
 to Hannibal in the arts of peace, and almost his 
 equal in those of war. His father had been killed 
 in Spain; so that he seemed to have an hereditary 
 claim to the conquest of the country. He there- 
 fore appeared irresistible, obtaining many great 
 victories, yet subduing still more by his genero- 
 sity, naildness, and benevolent disposition, than 
 by the force of his arms. Among other instances 
 of the greatness of Scipio*s mind, was the follow- 
 ing : upon the taking of New Carthage, he treat- 
 Gfd his prisoners with the utmost lenity ; and dif- 
 ferent from other generals, who permitted every 
 barbarity to their soldiers, he repressed his men 
 fr&m doing any injury to such as sued for mercy.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. Q59 
 
 Among the prisoners that were made at the tak- 
 ing this city, a young princess was brought be- 
 fore him of the most exquisite beauty: she had 
 been promised to Alleucius, a prince of that 
 country, who loved her with the most ardent 
 passion, and had felt the most poignant distress 
 for her captivity. It wa!s thooght, by the solici- 
 tude the generous Roman seemed to show, that 
 he designed asking her from her parents for him- 
 self; and more so, when he desired that the 
 prince and th6y might come before him. The 
 young prince approached, trembling with anxi- 
 <*ty, expecting to hear that his mistress, who 
 was now the property of another, was intended 
 to promote the happiness of her conqueror: but 
 his fears were dispelled when Soipio, giving the 
 princess to his arms, bade him take what was his 
 by a prior claim, and only desired his friendship 
 and alliance in return: at the same time he t€^ 
 fused the ransom which her parents had brought; 
 and when they pressed him to take it, he desired 
 it might be added to her portion. It was by such 
 generous acts as these, as well as the fortune of 
 his arms, that he reduced the whole country to 
 the obedience of the empire. 
 
 In this manner Spain and Sicily being added 
 t* the Roman empire, it now found resources for 
 continuing the Punic war. However, Hannibal 
 still kept his ground in Italy, although he was 
 unsupported at home, and but indifferently as- 
 sisted by the alliance he had made since his 
 crossing the Alps, He had now continued in 
 
 s 2
 
 260 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 this country for more than fourteen years, and, as 
 Polybius says, had never lost a single battle 
 where he himself was the commander. But it 
 was now too late to retrieve his fortune j the Ro- 
 mans were taught his own arts, his old army was 
 worn out, either with excesses of fatigue or de- 
 bauchery ; his countrymen had given over send- 
 ing new supplies, so that he had nothing now to 
 make him formidable but the fame of his former 
 good fortune. 
 
 It was in this posture of his affairs that Scipio 
 returned with an array from the conquest of 
 Spain, and was made consul at the age of twenty- 
 nine. It was at first supposed, he intended meet- 
 ing Hannibal in Italy, and then he would attempt 
 driving him from thence ; but he had already 
 formed a wiser plan, which was to carry the war 
 into Africa, and while the Carthaginians kept an 
 army near Rome, to make them tremble for their 
 own capital. This measure was opposed with 
 great heat by Fabius, and thereupon a consider- 
 able difference arose 5 but at last it was deter- 
 mined by the senate, that Scipio should be 
 granted Sicily for his province, and that leave 
 should be given him to pass over into Africa, if 
 he saw it convenient for the interests of Rome. 
 This he considered as a concurrence with his 
 aims 5 he accordingly spent his first year in Si- 
 cily, providing necessaries for his intended expe- 
 dition; and went over into Africa the beginning 
 of the next, with a large fleet, where he was 
 joined by Masinissa, the deposed king of Nu-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 261 
 
 midia, with whom he had made aii alliance in 
 Spain. 
 
 Scipio was not long in Africa without employ- 
 ment; for, in a short time, Hanno opposed him, 
 who was defeated and slain. Syphax, the usurper 
 of Numidia, led up a large army against him. 
 The Roman general, for a time, declined fighting ; 
 till finding an opportunitj^ he set fire to the ene- 
 my's tents, and attacking him in the midst of the 
 confusion, killed forty thousand of his men, and 
 took six thousand prisoners. Not long after, 
 Syphax, willing to strike one blow more for em- 
 pire, and fearing that his kingdom would return 
 to the true possessor in case the Romans should 
 succeed, gathered together a numerous army of 
 various nations, and with these unexperienced 
 troops marched against Scipio. His former ill 
 fortune followed him, he was soon defeated, and 
 he himself taken prisoner. Masinissa being 
 thus put in possession of the usurper's person, 
 the better to regain his kingdom, marched with 
 the utmost expedition to Cirta, the chief city; 
 and showing Syphax in bonds, procured the gates 
 to be opened, every one striving to make up their 
 former disloyalty by their ready obedience. In 
 this manner, Masinissa became possessed of the 
 roj'al palace, and all the wealth of the late king; 
 but among the rest, of a treasure that he esteemed 
 above all, Sophonisba, the wife of Syphax. So- 
 phonisba was the daughter of Asdrubal, one of 
 the Carthaginian generals : she was a woman of 
 great ambition, and incomparable beauty: it was
 
 262 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 s^e, that from the beginning hiad incited Syphax 
 to declare against Rome, in favour of Carthage; 
 and the influence of her charms was such, that 
 he gave up safety to be possessed of love. Ujvoa 
 Masinissa's entering the palace, he was met by 
 the queen, xyho with all the allurements of weep- 
 ing beauty fell at his feet, and entreated him to 
 spare her youth, and not deliver her up to the 
 Romans, who were prepared to take revenge upon 
 her for all the injuries done them by her father. 
 While siieyet hung upon his knees, and i« some 
 measure mixed caresses with her entreaties, Ma- 
 sinissa found himself touched with a passion that 
 was something more than pity; he fell in love: 
 he therefore quickly granted her request, and 
 finding her not averse to his solicitations, the 
 very day they first met was that of their nuptials. 
 The first account that Scipio had of this hasty 
 and unjust marriage, was from the unfortunate 
 Syphax himself, who attempted to palliate his 
 enmity to Rome by throwing the blame upon 
 Sophonisba, and then described the wretched- 
 iiess of his situation, with an eloquence pointed 
 by jealousy. Scipio was instantly fired with 
 resentment at the conduct of the young king : he 
 now saw that all his former lectures, exhorting 
 to continence and humanity, were but thrown 
 away; he therefore desired to speak with Ma- 
 sinissa in private, where he urged the cruelty, 
 the impropriety, and the injustice of taking the 
 wife of another, and that on the very day on 
 which he had lost his liberty and his kingdom :
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 263 
 
 he entreated the young king to recollect his 
 former virtuous resolutions, and reject a passion 
 that was attended with infamy. Finding, how- 
 ever, these remonstrances make no impression, 
 he added, that Syphax was now the prisoner of 
 Rome, that he must wait upon the senate, and 
 that his queen, who was a prisoner also, must 
 attend him there. Masinissa, now finding that 
 the obstacles to his happiness were insurmount- 
 able, left the general in a seeming acquiescence 
 in his advice, but feeling all that tumult of pas- 
 sions which disappointed love and ungoverned 
 inclination could excite; at last, calling one of 
 his slaves who carried poison, according to the 
 custom of barbarian kings, " Go," said he, " and 
 " present the queen from me, with a bowl of 
 " poison j death is now the only way she has 
 ** left of escaping the power of the Romans. 
 " The daughter of Asdrubal, and the wife of a 
 " king, will consult for glory." When the slave 
 presented his mistress with the bowl, " I take 
 " it," cried she, " as the kindest offering he can 
 " make. In the mean time, inform him, that 
 " my death would have been more glorious, had 
 " it been more remote from my marriage." So 
 saying, she drank off the poison with intrepidity, 
 and died without showing any signs of terror. 
 
 In the mean time, while these things were 
 transacting at Cirta, the Carthaginians were so 
 terrified at their repeated defeats, and the fame 
 of Scipio's former successes, that they deter- 
 mined to recal Hannibal, their great champion,
 
 264 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 out of Italy, ill order to oppose the Romans at 
 home. Deputies were accordingly dispatched, 
 with a positive command to return and oppose 
 the Roman general, who at that time threatened 
 Carthage with a siege. Nothing could exceed 
 the regret and disappointment of Hannibal 
 upon receiving this order j he had long foreseen 
 the ruin of his country, but at the same time 
 knew that Italy was the only place in which 
 its fate could be suspended. However, he 
 obeyed the orders of the infatuated people, with 
 the same submission that the meanest soldier 
 would have done ; and took leave of Italy, with 
 tears in his eyes, after having kept possession of 
 the most beautiful parts of it for above fifteen 
 years. 
 
 After a melancholy passage from Italy, where 
 he had lost his two brothers and most of his 
 bravest generals; and left the allies of his coun- 
 try to the furj^ of the conquerors, he arrived at 
 Leptis in Africa, from whence he marched to 
 Adrumetum, and at last approached Zama, a 
 city within five days' journey of Carthage. Sci- 
 pio, in the mean time, led his army to meet him, 
 joined by Masinissa with six thousand horse; 
 and to show his rival in the field how little he 
 feared his approach, sent back the spies which 
 were sent to explore his camp, having previ- 
 ously shown them the whole, with directions to 
 inform Hannibal of what they had seen. The 
 Carthaginian general soon found out the supe- 
 rior force of the enemy, composed of the flower
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 265 
 
 of the Romans; while his own army was now 
 but a mixture of various nations, drawn toge- 
 ther by necessity, with no experience, and with 
 little other discipline but what the short time 
 he commanded them would give. The troops 
 that almost subdued all Italy were worn out, or 
 but nominally existing in his army. Conscious 
 of this, therefore, his first endeavours were to 
 discontinue the war by negotiation ; and he 
 therefore desired a meeting with Scipio, to con- 
 fer upon terms of peace ; to which the Roman 
 general assented. It was in a large plain be- 
 tween the two armies, that the two greatest 
 generals in the world came to this interview : 
 both, for a while, silently regarded his opponent, 
 as if struck with mutual reverence and esteem. 
 Scipio was, in figure, adorned with all the ad- 
 vantages of manly beauty ; Hannibal bore the 
 marks in his visage of hard campaigns, and 
 being blind of one eye, it gave a stern air to his 
 countenance. Hannibal spoke first, to this ef- 
 fect: " Were I not convinced of the equity of 
 " the Romans, I would not this day have come 
 " to demand peace from the son, over whose 
 " father I have formerly been victorious. Would 
 '* to Heaven, that the same moderation which 
 " I hope inspires us at this day, had prevailed 
 " among us at the beginning of the war; that 
 " you had been content with the limits of your 
 " Italian dominions, and that we had never 
 " aimed at adding Sicily to our empire : we had 
 " then on both sides spared that blood, which
 
 066 ,. THE HISTOEY OF THE. > 
 
 ** no rewards from victory can repay. As for 
 " myself, age has taught me the inanity of tri- 
 ** umphs, and the instability of fortune; but 
 ♦* you are young, and, perhaps, not yet lessoned 
 " in the school of adversity; you are now, what 
 *' I was, after the battles of Canna3 and Thrasy- 
 " mene ; you perhaps will aim at splendid, ra* 
 " ther than at useful virtues. But consider, that 
 " peace is the end at which all victories aim ; 
 " and that peace I am sent here by my coun- 
 " try to offer: do not, therefore, expose to the 
 " hazard of an hour, that fame which you have 
 *' obtained by an age of conquests. At present, 
 '^Scipio, fortune is in your power, a moment of 
 " time may give it to your enemy. But let me 
 " not call myself such ; it is Hannibal that now 
 " addresses you ; Hannibal that esteems your 
 " virtues, and desires your friendship. Peace 
 " will be useful to us both : as for me, I shall 
 " be proud of the alliance of Rome ; and as for 
 " you, you will convert an active enemy into 
 " a steadfast friend." To this Scipio replied, 
 " That as to the wars which he complained of, 
 " as they were begun by the Carthaginians, so 
 " they must abide by the consequence. That 
 " as to himself, he could never condemn his 
 *' own perseverance on the side of justice. That 
 " some late outrages had been committed dur- 
 " ing a late truce, which required the greater 
 *' reparation, which if consented to, he was 
 " willing to conclude a treaty." Both sides 
 parting dissatisfied, they returned to their camps.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 267 
 
 to prepare for deciding the controversy by the 
 sword. Never was a more memorable battle 
 fought, whether we regard the generals, the ar-- 
 mies, the two states that contended, or the em- 
 pire that was in dispute. The disposition Han- 
 nibal made of his men, is said by the skilful in. 
 the art of war, to be superior to any even of his 
 former arrangements. He encouraged the vari- 
 ous nations of his army, by the differing motives 
 vi^hich led them to the field ; to the mercenaries, 
 he promised a discharge of their arrears, and 
 double pay, with plunder, in case of a victory; 
 the Gauls he inspired, by aggravating their 
 natural hatred to the Romans ; the Numidians, 
 by representing the cruelty of their new king; 
 and the Carthaginians, by reminding them of 
 their country, their glory, their danger of servir 
 tude, and their desire of freedom. Scipio on 
 the other hand, with a cheerful countenance^ 
 bade his men rejoice, for that their labours and 
 their dangers were now near an end : that the 
 gods had given Carthage into their hands; and 
 that they should soon return triumphant to their 
 friends, their wives, and their children. The 
 battle began by the elephants, on the side of 
 the Carthaginians; which being terrified by the 
 cries of the Romans, and wounded by the sling- 
 ers and archers, turned upon themselves, and 
 caused much confusion in both wings of their 
 army, in which the cavalry was placed. Being 
 thus deprived of the assistance of the horse, 
 in which their greatest strength consisted, the 
 heavy infantry joined on both sides. The Ro-
 
 J68 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 mans were more vigorous and powerful in the 
 shock, the Carthaginians more active and ready. 
 However, they were unable to withstand the 
 continual pressure of the Roman shields, but at 
 first gave way a little, and this soon brought on 
 a general flight. The rear-guard, who had or- 
 ders from Hannibal to oppose those that fled, 
 now began to attack their own forces, so that 
 the body of the infantry sustained a double en- 
 counter, of those who caused their flight, and 
 those who endeavoured to prevent it. At 
 length, however, the general finding that they 
 were not to be made to stand, directed that they 
 should fall behind, while he brought up his fresh 
 forces to oppose the pursuers. Scipio, upon this, 
 immediately sounded a retreat, in order to bring 
 up his men, a second time, in good order. And 
 now the combat began afresh, between the flower 
 of both armies. The Carthaginians, however, 
 having been deprived of the succour of their ele- 
 phants and their horses, and their enemies being 
 stronger of body, were obliged to give ground. 
 In the mean time Masinissa, who had been in 
 pursuit of their cavalry, returning and attacking 
 them in the rear, completed their defeat. A total 
 rout ensued, twenty thousand men were killed 
 in battle or the pursuit, and as many were taken 
 prisoners. Hannibal, who had done all that a 
 great general and an undaunted soldier could 
 perform, fled with a small body of horse to Adru- 
 metum, fortune seeming to delight in confound- 
 ing his ability, his valour, and experience. 
 This victory brought on peace. The Cartha-
 
 COIIMONWEALTH OF ROME, Q69 
 
 ginians, by Hannibal's advice, offered conditions 
 to the Romans, which they dictated, not as rivals, 
 but as sovereigns. By this treaty, the Carthagi- 
 nians were obliged to quit Spain, and all the 
 islands in the Mediterranean sea. They were 
 bound to pay ten thousand talents in fifty years; 
 to give hostages for the delivery of their ships and 
 their elephants ; to restore Masiiiissa all the 
 territories that had been taken from him, and 
 not to make war in Africa but by the permission 
 of the Romans. Thus ended the second Punic 
 war, seventeen years after it had begun : Car- 
 thage still continued an empire, but without 
 power to defend its possessions, and only wait- 
 ing the pleasure of the conquerors, when they 
 should think proper to end the period of u. c. 
 its continuance. After the depression of ^^3, 
 this mighty dominion, the Romans were scarce 
 engaged but in petty wars, and obtained mighty 
 victories ; whereas before, they had obtained 
 but petty victories, and were engaged in dan- 
 gerous wars.
 
 27*0^ THE HlStdRY GI^ riiJC 
 
 ClfAPTER XVir. 
 
 From the End of the Second Punic War, to' the End 
 of the Third, which terminated in the Destruc- 
 tion of Carthage. 
 
 Upon the conclusion of so great and long a war 
 as that of Carthage, there seemed to arise a cer- 
 tain spirit in the Roman republic, unknown till 
 that time. Men, till now, had received distinc- 
 tion from their abilities, their families, their offi- 
 ces, ot their virtues : but, upon the conquest of 
 such various countries, such great riches, and so 
 many slaves were brought into Rome, that the 
 manners of the people began to alter. Riches 
 gave them a taste for pleasures unknown before, 
 and the slaves they had taken, were put to those 
 offices of labour and husbandry that had formerly 
 contributed to harden the warrior and mark the 
 character of Roman simplicity. Their love of 
 their country, and their zeal for the public good, 
 seemed exhausted in the war against Hannibal : 
 many had given up their whole fortunes to the 
 republic; and not finding that recompense in 
 peace, which the public was as yet unable to 
 grant them, they suffered neglect patiently for a 
 while, and at last converted their anger at the 
 ingratitude of the state, into a desire of private 
 interest} they sought new connections in society.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. ^7 1 
 
 and, forgetting the whole, laboured to form par- 
 ticular dependencies. 
 
 The senate, however, prosecuted new wars, 
 rather with a view of keeping these spirits em- 
 ployed from doing harm to the empire, than of 
 advancing its interests. They continued to carry 
 on the Macedonian war against Philip, who, as 
 was said before, had entered into an alliance with 
 the Carthaginians during the conquests of Han- 
 nibal. To this war the Romans were not a little 
 incited by the prayers of the Athenians; that 
 polite people, who, from once controlling the 
 power of Persia, were nowunable todefend them- 
 selves. The Rhodians, with Attains, king of 
 Pergamus, also entered into the confederacy 
 against Philip. He was more than once defeated 
 by Galba, the consul, who was sent against him. 
 Heattempted to besiege Athens; but the Romans 
 obliged him to raise the siege. He attempted to 
 take possession of the straits of Thermopylge ; 
 but was driven from them by Quintus Flamininus 
 with great slaughter. He attempted to take re- 
 fuge in Thessaly, where he was again defeated 
 with considerable loss, and obliged to beg a 
 peace, upon condition of paying a thousand ta- 
 lents, half down, and the other half in the space 
 of ten years. The peace with Philip gave the 
 Romans an opportunity of showing their gene- 
 rosity, by restoring liberty to Greece. They 
 had, for some time, submitted to the institutions 
 of this most refined people ; and now^, out of a 
 principle of gratitude, endeavoured to recom-
 
 272 ' THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 pense their masters. The senate, therefore, sent 
 over ten men of the first rank, with Flamininus at 
 their head, to proclaim an universal freedom at 
 the Isthmian games, where the people were 
 assembled. This was the most surprising and 
 joyful gift that could be imagined, to a people 
 panting after liberty, and whose ancestors had 
 spent their dearest blood in its cause. The 
 Greeks gave them all the return that was now in 
 their power, namely, praise ; this satisfied the 
 Romans, for vanity was now the ruling passion 
 of the times j and thus ended what was called the 
 first Macedonian war, five years after it was last 
 
 u. c. proclaimed, and twenty after it had be- 
 
 558. gun. 
 
 During the continuance of this war, the Gauls, 
 who had joined with Hannibal, received some 
 signal overthrows. The Spaniards also, who 
 had revolted, were quelled by Cato the censor. 
 The Ligurians, though joining with the Gauls, 
 were subdued. Nabis, the deposed king of La- 
 cedasmon, opposed the Romans, but was forced 
 to submit. Scarce any nation or prince of power 
 attempted to oppose them, that was not over- 
 thrown. Antiochus, king of Syria, was a mon- 
 arch, whose strength and fame invited their 
 ambition ; and, after some embassies on the one 
 side and the other, a war was declared against 
 him, five years after the conclusion of the Mace- 
 
 u. c. donian war. The pretext of the Romans 
 
 563. was, that he had made encroachments 
 upon the Grecian states, who were their allies.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. S73 
 
 and that he had given refuge to Hannibal, their 
 inveterate enemy, who had been expelled from 
 Carthage. This Antiochus, who was surnamed 
 the Great, was one of Alexander's successors, a 
 potent prince, bold, ambitious, and master of 
 very extensive dominions, which his personal 
 abilities invigorated and inspired. The ^Eto- 
 lians, who had imagined they should bear sway 
 in Greece by joining with the Romans, found, 
 too late, that they had only brought themselves 
 to share the general subjection, in which the 
 rest of the states of Greece were held under the 
 specious denomination of freedom. In order, 
 therefore, to correct one extravagance by an- 
 other, they had invited this prince among them, 
 in the same manner as before they had invited 
 the Romans. He accordingly came to their 
 assistance, but with an army, rather as if he in- 
 tended only to be a spectator than a manager of 
 the war; and, instead of preparing for the Ro- 
 mans, sat down at Ephesus to take his pleasures. 
 Being, however, apprised of the enemy's ap- 
 proach, he endeavoured to treat for a peace; 
 this not succeeding, he placed his dependence 
 on his maritime forces; but even there his ex- 
 pectations were frustrated, though the great 
 Hannibal was his admiral. In the midst of the 
 consternation occasioned by these misfortunes, 
 he abandoned Lysimachia, a place where he 
 might have held the enemy for a year; and, add- 
 ing one indiscretion to another, suffered Scipio, 
 brother to the famous Africanus, to pass th« 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Hellespont with his army without opposition. 
 He then attempted to obtain a peace by offering 
 to quit all places in Europe, and such in Asia as 
 professed alliance with Rome. But it was now 
 too late; the Roman general perceived his own 
 superiority, and was resolved to avail himself of 
 it. Antiochus, thus driven into resistance, for 
 some time retreated before the enemy, till being 
 pressed hard, near the city of Magnesia, he was 
 forced to draw out his men, to the number of 
 seventy thousand foot and twelve thousand horse. 
 Scipio opposed him with forces, as much inferior 
 in number, as they were superior in courage and 
 discipline. He was, in a short time, entirely de- 
 feated; his own chariots, armed with sithes, 
 being driven back upon his men, contributed 
 much to his overthrow. Antiochus, thus reduced 
 to the last extremity, was glad to procure peace 
 of the Romans upon their own terms; which 
 were, to pay fifteen thousand talents towards the 
 expences of the war ; to quit all possessions in 
 Europe, and likewise all in Asia on that side 
 Mount Taurus; to give twenty hostages as 
 pledges of his fidelity; and to deliver up Han- 
 nibal, the inveterate enemy of Rome. Thus 
 ended the war with Antiochus, twelve years 
 after the second Punic war, and two after it had 
 been begun. Lucius Scipio, who conducted it, 
 with the assistance of his brother Scipio Africa- 
 nus, who went as his lieutenant, was called Asia- 
 ticus, from his success in Asia. 
 
 In the mean time, Hannibal, whose destruc-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 275 
 
 tion was one of the articles of this extorted treaty, 
 endeavoured to avoid the threatened ruin. This 
 consummate general had been long a wanderer, 
 and an exile from his ungrateful cottntry : all 
 that prudence or justice could inspire he had 
 done for the safety of Carthage, even after the 
 battle which he had lost at Zama. Upon his re- 
 turn to his native city, he found the public trea- 
 sures exhausted among those who pretended to 
 collect them; and when he endeavoured to punish 
 their avarice, they accused him to the Romans 
 of attempting to renew the war. This bringing 
 on a demand that he should be delivered up, he 
 resolved to yield to the necessity of the times, 
 and fly. Thus leaving Carthage, in the very robe 
 he wore in council, and attended only by two fol- 
 lowers, who were ignorant of his intentions, he 
 began his voluntary exile. After two days tra- 
 velling by land, he embarked, and landed on a 
 little island in the Mediterranean sea. There 
 being known by one who had formerly fought 
 under his command, he was quickly surrounded 
 by the inhabitants, who came from motives of 
 reverence and curiosity. From thence he sailed 
 to Tyre, where he met with a kind reception 
 from the inhabitants, who remembered their an- 
 cient alliance with Carthage. He thence went 
 to the court of Antiochus, who at first gave him 
 a sincere welcome, and made him admiral of his 
 jQeet, in which station he showed his usual skill 
 in stratagem. But he soon sunk in the Syrian's 
 esteem, for having advised schemes which that 
 
 T 2
 
 S76 THE HISTORY OF THI 
 
 monarch had neither genius to understand, nor 
 talents to execute; particularly that of a second 
 invasion of Italy. At last, finding himself des- 
 tined to be given up, in order to propitiate the 
 Romans and confirm the peace, and finding no 
 hopes of safety or protection there, he departed 
 by stealth ; and after wandering for a time among 
 petty states, who had neither power nor genero- 
 sity to protect him, he took refuge at the court 
 of Prusias, king of Bithynia. However the Ro- 
 mans, with a vindictive spirit utterly unworthy 
 of them, sent iEmilius, one of their most cele- 
 brated generals, to demand him of this king; 
 who fearing the resentment of Rome, and willing 
 to conciliate their friendship by this breach of 
 hospitality, ordered a guard to be placed upon 
 Hannibal, with an intention of delivering him 
 up. The old general, thus implacably perse- 
 cuted from one country to another, and finding 
 all methods of safety cut off, determined to die; 
 he therefore desired one of his followers to bring 
 him poison, which he had prepared for this exi- 
 gence; and while he was preparing to take it, 
 " Let us rid the Romans," says he, " of their 
 " terrors, since they are unwilling to wait for the 
 " death of an old man like me: there was a time 
 " when there was more generosity remaining 
 " among them; they have been known to guard 
 " their enemy from poison, and now they basely 
 " send an embassy to seek the life of a banished 
 ** man, and to make a feeble monarch break the 
 ** laws of hospitality," Thus saying, and drink-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. S77 
 
 ing the poison, he expired, as he had lived, with 
 intrepid bravery. 
 
 In the mean time, while these things were 
 doing abroad, the spirit of dissension seemed to 
 rekindle in Rome. In the third year after end- 
 ing the war with Antiochus, the tribunes of the 
 people undertook to accuse Scipio Africanus of 
 defrauding the treasury of the plunder which 
 was taken in war, and of too intimate a cor- 
 respondence with that king. Accordingly, a 
 day was set him by the tribunes to answer for 
 his conduct. Scipio appeared at the appointed 
 time ; but instead of attempting a defence, he 
 reminded his countrymen, that on that very day 
 he had gained the victory of Zama. This 
 struck the assembly of the people so strongly, 
 that they all left the tribunes in the Forum, 
 and went to attend Scipio to the Capitol, to 
 return their annual thanks to the gods for the 
 victory. The tribunes finding themselves dis- 
 appointed here, were resolved to accuse him in 
 the senate, and desired that he should bring 
 his accounts to answer their charge. Scipio, 
 instead of gratifying them even in this, tore his 
 accounts before them, and soon after withdrew 
 to Linternum, a town on the coast of Campa- 
 nia, where he spent the rest of his life in peace 
 and privacy : he lived, however, but three years 
 longer, testifying his displeasure against his 
 countrymen, by the epitaph which he ordered 
 to be engraved on his tomb : " Ungrateful coun- 
 " try, my very bones shall not rest among you."
 
 ^78 *HE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 u. c. This was the same year on which Hanni- 
 •573. bal died, as also Philopoeoien, a Grecian 
 general, who was reckoned equal to either of the 
 former. 
 
 The factious spirit which was now excited in 
 the republic continued for some years, during 
 all their subsequent wars and victories over the 
 Ligurians, Istrians, Sardinians, Corsicans, and 
 Macedonians ; for the Romans soon after entered 
 u. c. into a second Macedonian war. This was 
 583. with Perseus, the son of Philip, the king 
 of that country whom we have already seen 
 obliged to beg a peace of the Romans. Perseus, 
 in order to secure the crown, had contrived to 
 murder his brother Demetrius, and upon the 
 death of his father, pleased with the hopes of 
 imaginary triumphs, made war against Rome. 
 During the course of this war, which continued 
 about three years, many opportunities were of- 
 fered him of cutting off the Roman army : but 
 being perfectly ignorant of making his advantage 
 of their rashness, he spent the time in empty 
 overtures for a peace. At length, iEmilius gave 
 him a decisive overthrow near the river Enipeus. 
 He attempted to procure safety by flying into 
 Crete, but being abandoned by all, he was 
 obliged to surrender himself, and to grace the 
 splendid triumph of the Roman general. He 
 was led, with his two sons, before the con- 
 queror's chariot into Rome; while Gentius, king 
 of the Illyrians, and his confederates, was in 
 the same manner led captive before the cha-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. Q79 
 
 riot of Lucius Amicius, one of the Roman ad- 
 mirals. 
 
 These wars, which brought immense riches 
 into the Roman treasury, were no sooner finished, 
 than they found a pretext to enter upon the 
 third and last Punic war. Carthage was now a 
 state that only subsisted by the mercy of the 
 conquerors, and was to fall at the slightest 
 breath of their indignation. About this time, 
 Masinissa, the Numidian, having made some in* 
 cursions into a territory claimed by the Cartha- 
 ginians, they attempted to repel the invasion. 
 This brought on a war between that monarch 
 and them ; while the Romans, who pretended 
 to consider this conduct of theirs as an infrac- 
 tion of the treaty, sent to them to make com- 
 plaint. The ambassadors who were employed 
 upon this occasion, finding the city very rich 
 and flourishing, from the long interval of peace 
 which it had now enjoyed for near fifty years, 
 either from motives of avarice to possess its plun- 
 der, or from fear of its growing greatness, insist- 
 ed much on the necessity of a war. Among the 
 chief of these was Cato, who never spoke in the 
 senate upon public business, but he ended his 
 speech by inculcating the necessity of destroy- 
 ing Carthage. It was in vain that he was op- 
 posed by Nasica, who, with more sagacious fore- 
 cast, urged the danger of destroying a rival state, 
 that still would be an incentive to Roman disci- 
 pline. Cato's opinion prevailed, and the senate, 
 having a fair pretence to begin, ordered war to
 
 280 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 be proclaimed, and the consuls set out with a 
 thorough resolution utterly to demolish Carthage. 
 The Carthaginians now too late perceived 
 the wisdom of Hannibal, who had foreseen the 
 consequences of their conduct, but it was not 
 till they had found their want of him. Af- 
 frighted at the Roman preparations (for they 
 had, during this long period, been only intent on 
 amassing private wealth, and no way careful 
 for public safety), they immediately condemned 
 those who had broken the league, and most 
 humbly offered any reasonable satisfaction. To 
 these submissions the senate only returned an 
 evasive answer, demanding three hundred hos- 
 tages within thirty days, as a security for their 
 future conduct, and an implicit obedience to their 
 further commands. With these articles it was 
 supposed the Carthaginians would not comply; 
 but it turned out otherwise ; for this infatuated 
 people desiring peace on any terms, sent their 
 children within the limited timej and the con- 
 suls landing at Utica soon after, were waited 
 upon by deputies from Carthage, to know the 
 senate's further demands, as certain of a ready 
 compliance. Upon this, the Roman generals 
 were not a little perplexed, in what manner to 
 force them into disobedience: wherefore Censo- 
 rinus the consul, commending their diligence, 
 demanded all their arms; but these also, con- 
 trary to expectation, they delivered up. At last, 
 they found that the conquerors would not desist 
 piaking demands, while the vanquished had any^
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROMi. 281 
 
 thing left to "supply. They now therefore re- 
 ceived orders to leave their city, which was to 
 be levelled with the ground ; being granted, at 
 the same time, permission to build another, in 
 any part of their territories within ten miles of 
 the sea. This severe command they received 
 with all the concern and distress of a despairing 
 people : they implored for a respite from such 
 a hard sentence ; they used tears and lamenta- 
 tions : but finding the consuls inexorable, they 
 departed with a gloomy resolution, prepared to 
 suffer the utmost extremities, and to fight to the 
 last for their seat of empire and ancient habita- 
 tion. 
 
 Upon returning home, and divulging the ill 
 success of their commission, a general spirit of 
 resistance seemed to inspire the whole people; 
 they now, too late, began to see the danger of 
 riches in a state, when it had no longer power 
 to defend them. Those vessels, therefore, of 
 gold and silver which their luxury had taken 
 such pride in, were converted into arms as 
 they had given up their iron, which was, in 
 their present circumstances, the most precious 
 metal. The women parted also with their or- 
 naments, and even cut off their hair to be con- 
 verted into strings for tiie bowmen. Asdrubal, 
 who had lately been condemned for opposing 
 the Romans, was now taken from prison to 
 head their army; and such preparations were 
 made, that when the consuls came before the 
 city, which they expected to find an easy
 
 282 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 conquest, they met such resistance as quite dis- 
 pirited their forces, and shook their resolution. 
 Several engagements were fought before the 
 walls, with disadvantage to the assailants; so 
 that the siege would have been discontinued, 
 had not Scipio ^Emilianus, the adopted son of 
 Africanus, who was now appointed to com- 
 mand it, used as much skill to save his forces 
 after a defeat, as to inspire them with fresh 
 hopes of victory. But all his arts would have 
 failed, had he not found means to seduce Phar- 
 neas, the master of the Carthaginian horse, who 
 came over to his side. He from that time went 
 on successfully ; that part of Carthage called 
 Megara, was the first that was taken, while the 
 inhabitants were driven into the citadel. He 
 then secured the isthmus which led to the city, 
 and thus cut off all supplies of provisions from 
 the country. He next blocked up the haven; 
 but the besieged, with incredible industry, cut 
 out a new passage into the sea, whereby, at cer- 
 tain times, they could receive necessaries from 
 tke army without. That army therefore was 
 to be subdued, ere the city could be thoroughly 
 invested. Wherefore, Scipio set upon them the 
 beginning of the ensuing winter, killed seventy 
 thousand of their men, and took ten thousand 
 prisoners of war. The unhappy townsmen, now 
 bereft of all external succour, resolved upon 
 every extremity rather than submit: but they 
 soon saw the enemy make nearer approaches: 
 the wall which led to the haven was quickly
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 283 
 
 demolished ; soon after the Forum itself was 
 taken ; which offered the conquerors a deplo- 
 rable spectacle of houses tottering to the fall, 
 heaps of men lying dead beneath, hundreds of 
 the wounded struggling to emerge from the car- 
 nage around them, and deploring their own 
 and their country's ruin. The citadel soon af- 
 ter surrendered at discretion. All now but the 
 temple was subdued, and that was defended by 
 deserters, and those who had been most forward 
 to undertake the war. These, however, expect- 
 ing no mercy, and finding their condition des- 
 perate, set fire to the building, and voluntarily 
 perished in the flames. Asdrubal, the Cartha- 
 ginian general, delivered himself up to the Ro- 
 mans when the citadel was taken ; but his wife 
 and two children rushed ii^to the temple while 
 yet on fire, and expired with their country. 
 Then w^s this magnificent city laid in ashes by 
 the merciless conquerors ; and so extensive was 
 it, being twenty-four miles in compass, that the 
 burning continued for seventeen days together. 
 The senate of Rome ordered that no part of it 
 should be rebuilt; it was demolished to the 
 ground ; so that travellers are unable to say where 
 Carthage stood at this day. All the cities which 
 assisted Carthage in this war, were ordered to 
 share the same fate ; and the lands belonging to 
 them were given to the friends of the Romans. 
 The other towns of Africa became tributary to 
 Rome, and were governed by an annual praetor ; 
 while the numberless captives who were taken in
 
 284 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the course of this war, were sold as slaves, ex- 
 cept some few, who were adjudged to die by 
 the hands of the executioner. This was the 
 end of one of the most renowned cities in the 
 world, both for arts, opulence, and extent of 
 dominion ; it had rivalled Rome for above a hun- 
 dred years, and at one time was thought to have 
 the superiority. But all the grandeur of Car- 
 thage was founded on commerce alone, which is 
 ever fluctuating, and, at best, serves to dress up a 
 nation, to invite conquest, and to adorn the vie-- 
 tim for its destruction. 
 
 This conquest over Carthage, was soon fol- 
 lowed by many over other states. Corinth, 
 one of the noblest cities of Greece, in the same 
 year sustained the same fate, being entered by 
 Mummius the consul, and levelled • to the 
 ground. The pretext for this violence was, 
 that the Achaeans had declared war against the 
 Lacedaemonians, who were in alliance with 
 Rome. Metellus the consul, in consequence of 
 this, drawing his army into Boeotia, overthrew 
 their general Critolaus; and Mummius succeed- 
 ing him in the command, overthrew Dicas the 
 Achaean general, and in consequence entered and 
 demolished Corinth, the spoils of which after- 
 wards not a little contributed to embellish Rome. 
 Spain, though at first victorious, was soon after 
 entirely subdued. Viriatus the Spanish com- 
 mander, who from a shepherd became a rob- 
 ber, and from that a general over a numerous 
 body of men like himself, gave the Romans
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 285 
 
 some trouble, but was taken off by the basest 
 treachery ; Caepio, the Roman general, having 
 bribed his own ambassadors, who were sent to 
 treat of a peace, to murder their master in his 
 bed upon their return. Quintus Pompeius 
 and Mancianus also gained no greater honour 
 by combating this brave people : they were both 
 obliged, in order to save their armies, to make 
 so disadvantageous a treaty, that the senate, by 
 a mean subterfuge, sent back Mancianus bound, 
 for concluding upon terms with which they 
 refused to concur. Lepidus also was equally 
 unsuccessful j for setting upon the Vaccaei, a 
 harmless and peaceable people of that country, 
 he was entirely defeated. At last, however, 
 Scipio, who had destroyed Carthage (and who 
 now, like the former of that name, was also 
 surnamed Africanus), being made consul, re- 
 stored the fortune of Rome ; and laying siege to 
 Numantia, the strongest city in Spain, the 
 wretched inhabitants, to avoid falling into the 
 hands of the enemy, fired the city over their 
 own heads, and all, to a man, expired in the 
 flames : thus Spain became a province to Rome, 
 and was governed thenceforward by two annual 
 praetors. From this treatment given to the con- 
 quered, we see how very different the Romans 
 were from their ancestors, whose boast it was 
 to use lenity to those whom they bad subdued. 
 But few nations can withstand the intoxication 
 of success : as they began to consider the whole 
 world as their own, they resolved to treat all
 
 S86 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 those who withstoood their arms, not as opposers, 
 but revolters. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 From the Destruction of Carthage to the End of 
 the Sedition of the Gracchi. 
 
 V. c. We have hitherto seen this great people 
 621. by slow degrees rising into power, and at 
 length reigning without a rival. We have hither- 
 to seen all the virtues which give strength and 
 conquest, one by one entering into the state, and 
 forming an unconquerable empire. From this 
 time forward we are to survey a difl'erent picture; 
 a powerful state giving admission to all the vices 
 that tend to divide, enslave, and at last totally 
 destroy it. This seems to be the great period 
 of Roman power : their conquests afterwards 
 might be more numerous, and their dominions 
 more extensive; but their extension was rather an 
 increase of glory than of strength. For a long 
 time, even after the admission of their vices, the 
 benefits of their former virtues continued to 
 operate; but their future triumphs rather spread 
 their power than increased it, they rather gave 
 it surface than solidity. They now began daily 
 to degenerate from their ancient modesty, plain-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 287 
 
 ness and severity of life. The triumphs and the 
 spoils of Asia brought in a taste for splendid ex- 
 pence, and these produced avarice and inverted 
 ambition ; so that from henceforward, the history 
 seems that of another people. 
 
 The two Gracchi were the first who saw this 
 strange corruption among the great, and re- 
 solved to repress it, by renewing the Licinian 
 law, which, as we have seen, had enacted, that 
 no person in the state should possess above five 
 hundred acres of land, but that the overplus 
 should become the property of the state. Ti- 
 berius Gracchus, the elder of the two, was a 
 person very considerable both for the*advantages 
 of his body and the qualities of his mind. 
 Very different from Scipio, of whom he was 
 the grandson, he seemed more ambitious of 
 power than desirous of glory : he had a mind 
 fonder of embracing novelties, than of advanc- 
 ing or supporting establishments already made : 
 his contempt of money was apparent ; and this 
 only served to lessen his power in a country, 
 that now began to set an immoderate value on 
 riches: his compassion for the oppressed was 
 equal to his animosity against the oppressors ; 
 but unhappily his passions, rather than his rea- 
 son, operated even in his pursuit of virtue, and 
 these always drove him beyond the line of duty ; 
 his designs seemed, in the main, honest ; but op- 
 position put his intentions into disorder; and 
 though he began with principles of justice, he 
 was at last obliged to exchange his rectitude for
 
 28S THE HISTOllY OF THE 
 
 his party. This was the disposition of the elder* 
 Gracchus ; who found the lower part of the peo- 
 ple (for the distinction between patrician and 
 plebeian was now no more), ready to second 
 all his proposals. These, after long services 
 to the state, found themselves exposed to the 
 oppressions of the rich ; who by wresting the 
 laws, of which they had the management, in 
 their own favour, seized upon all the property, 
 and left the poor only the danger and fatigue 
 of defending it. Their continual injuries, how- 
 ever, had alienated the hearts of the multitude, 
 which they concealed, or thought it their duty 
 to suffer; while the senate, unjust, corrupt, 
 and mercenary, were only intent on covering 
 their internal meanness by the dignity of their 
 conquests abroad. This was the state of parties, 
 when Tiberius Gracchus procured himself to be 
 chosen tribune of the people. It was he that 
 had formerly attempted to retrench the power of 
 Scipio Africanus, and had set him a day to an- 
 swer before the people; and that now prevailed 
 for preferring the Licinian law, by which it was 
 prohibited, that any person should possess above 
 live hundred acres of land. But willing to pre- 
 vent this law being wrested to the advantage of 
 the great, as it had hitherto been, he caused it to 
 be enacted also, that one half of the illicit surplus 
 should be given to the children of the transgress- 
 or, and the other half given to such of the poor 
 as bad nothing; and lest any, by purchase, should 
 enlarge their possessions, three officers were ap-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 289 
 
 pointed, called the Triumviri, who were to de- 
 termine and examine the quantity of land occu- 
 pied by every individual. This law, though at 
 first carried on with proper mbderation, greatly 
 disgusted the rich, who endeavoured to persuade 
 the people, that the proposer only aimed at dis- 
 turbing the government, and putting all things 
 into confusion. But Gracchus, who was a man 
 of the greatest eloquence of his time, easily wiped 
 off these impressions from minds already irritated 
 with their wrongs, and, besides, willing enough 
 to forward a law by which they were to be the 
 only gainers. But while the poor were eager 
 for passing this law, the rich were equally stre- 
 nuous in opposing it. What was in the begin- 
 ning but debate, by degrees grew into enmity, 
 and the opposition seemed to kindle as it pro- 
 ceeded. Octavius, one of the tribunes who op- 
 posed the law, was, partly by art and partly by 
 violence, obliged to resign, while Mummius, who 
 was in the opposite confederacy, was elected tri- 
 bune in his stead. The death of Attalus, king 
 of Pergamus, furnished Tiberius Gracchus with 
 a new opportunity of gratifying the meaner 
 part of the people, at the expence of the great. 
 This king had by his last will left the Romans 
 his heirs, and it was now proposed, that the 
 money so left should be divided among the 
 poor, in order to furnish them with proper uten- 
 sils for cultivating the lands which became theirs 
 by the late law of partition. This caused still 
 greater disturbances than before ; the senate as- 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 ^gO THE HISTORt OF THJE 
 
 sembled upon this occasion, in ortler to consult 
 the most proper methods of securing these riches 
 to themselves, which they now valued above the 
 safety of the commonwealth , they had numerous 
 dependents, who were willing to give up liberty 
 for plenty and ease ; these, therefore, were com- 
 manded to be in readiness, to intimidate the 
 people, who expected no such opposition, and 
 who were now attending to the harangue of Ti- 
 berius Gracchus in the Capitol. Here, as a cla- 
 mour was raised by the clients of the great on one 
 side, and by the favourers of the law on the other, 
 Tiberius found his speech entirely interrupted, 
 and begged in vain to be attended to, till at 
 last raising his hand to his head, to intimate 
 that his life was in danger, the partizans of the 
 senate gave out that he wanted a diadem. In 
 consequence of this, an universal uproar now 
 spread itself through all ranks of people; the cor- 
 rupt part of the senate were of opinion, that 
 the consul should defend the commonwealth by 
 force of arms ; but this prudent magistrate declin- 
 ing; such violence, Scipio Nasica, kinsman to 
 Gracchus, rose up, and preparing himself for the 
 contest, desired that all who would defend the 
 dignity and the authority of the laws, should fol- 
 low him. Upon this, attended by a large body of 
 senators and clients, armed with clubs, he went 
 directly up to the Capitol, striking down all 
 who ventured to resist. Gracchus, perceiving 
 by the tumult that his life was sought for, en- 
 deavoured to fly, and throwing aside his robe to
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. SQ I 
 
 expedite his escape, attempted to get through the 
 throng, but happening to fall over a person al- 
 ready on the ground, Satureius, one of his col- 
 leagues in the tribuneship, who was of the oppo- 
 site faction, struck him dead with a piece of a 
 seat; and not less than three hundred of his 
 hearers shared the same fate, being killed in the 
 tumult. Nor did the vengeance of the senate 
 rest here, but extended to numbers of those who 
 seemed to espouse his cause; many of them were 
 put to death, many were banished, and nothing 
 was omitted to inspire the people with an abhor- 
 rence for his pretended crimes. 
 
 These dissensions, though for a little while 
 interrupted by a victory gained by Aristonicus, 
 bastard brother to the late king of Pergamus, 
 and pretender to his crown, over the Roman 
 consul Licinius Crassus, were soon renewed 
 again. For Aristonicus being overthrown by 
 Perpenna, the consul, then besieged in Strato- 
 nice, and compelled by famine to surrender, was, 
 after gracing the conqueror's triumph, strangled 
 in prison by order of the senate, which afforded 
 an opportunity to the people for renewing the 
 former animosities, headed by Caius Gracchus, 
 the brother of him who was slain. 
 
 Caius Gracchus was but twenty-one upon the 
 death of his brother Tiberius, and as he was too 
 young to be much dreaded by the great, so he 
 was at first unwilling to incur their resentment 
 by aims beyond his reach ; he therefore lived in 
 retirement, unseen and almost forgotten. But
 
 £92 THE HISTORY bF THK 
 
 while he thus seemed desirous of avoiding popu- 
 larity, he was employing his solitude in the study 
 of eloquence, which was the readiest means to 
 obtain it ; at length, when he thought himself 
 qualified to serve his country, he oiFered himself 
 candidate for thequestorship to the army in Sar- 
 dinia, which he readily obtained. His valour, 
 affability, and temperance in this office was re- 
 marked by all. The king of Numidia sending a 
 present of corn to the Romans, ordered his am- 
 bassadors to say, that it was entirely as a tribute 
 to the virtues of Caius Gracchus. This the senate 
 treated with scorn, and ordered the ambassadors 
 to be dismissed with contempt, as ignorant bar- 
 barians, which so inflamed the resentment of 
 young Gracchus, that he immediately came 
 from the army to complain of the indignity 
 thrown upon his reputation, and to offer himself 
 for tribune of the people. It was then that the 
 great found in this youth, who had been hitherto 
 neglected upon account of his age, a more for- 
 midable antagonist than even his brother had 
 been : his eloquence against the calumnies which 
 tvere laid to his charge exceeded whatever had 
 been heard in Rome j and his intrepidity in sup- 
 porting his pretensions, equalled the rest of his 
 virtues. Notwithstanding the warmest opposi- 
 tion from the senate, he was declared tribune, by 
 a very large majority, and he now prepared to 
 run the same career which his brother had gone 
 before him. 
 
 His first effort was to have Popilius, one of
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. gpS 
 
 the most inveterate of his brother's enemies, cited 
 before the people, who rather than stand the 
 event of a trial, chose to go into voluntary ba- 
 nishment. He next procured an edict granting 
 the freedom of the city to the inhabitants of La- 
 tium, and soon after, to all the people on that 
 side the Alps. He afterwards fixed the price of 
 corn to a moderate standard, and procured a 
 monthly distribution of it among the people. He 
 then proceeded to an inspection into the late 
 corruptions of the senate, in which, the whole 
 body being convicted of bribery, extortion, and 
 the sale of offices (for at that time a total dege- 
 neracy seemed to have taken place), a law was 
 made, transferring the power of judging corrupt 
 magistrates, from the senate to the knights 5 which 
 made a great alteration in the constitution. The 
 number of these officers, thus placed as inspect- 
 ors over the conduct of all the other magistrates 
 of the state, amounted to three hundred, and they 
 were chosen from among the friends of Gracchus. 
 Thus, ever attentive to the good of the common- 
 wealth, he ordered the highways to be improved 
 and adorned ; he caused public granaries to be 
 built, and stored with grain against times of scar- 
 city; and to give a pattern of justice to the 
 people, he caused large quantities of corn, which 
 Fabius the proprsetor of Spain had extorted from 
 his government, and had presented as a largess 
 to the people, to be sold, and the money remitted 
 to the injured owners. In short, on whatever 
 side we view the character of this great man, we
 
 294 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 shall find him just, temperate, wise, active, and 
 seemingly born to restore the ancient simplicity 
 of Rome. However, historians pretend to assert 
 that all his aims were to extend his own power, 
 and that all his virtues were but the children 
 of his ambition. These assertions, however, do 
 hot seem verified in any of the actions of his life 
 which they have recorded; however, it is not for 
 the moderns to dispute with ancient historians 
 upon characters of antiquity ; they knew best the 
 men of their own times, and, perhaps, have often 
 condemned them in the gross for defects which 
 they thought not worth while to mention in the 
 detail. 
 
 Gracchus, by these means being grown not 
 only very popular, but very powerful, in the 
 state, was become an object at which the senate 
 aimed all their resentment. At first, they seemed 
 to wait only till his tribuneship expired, in order 
 to wreak their vengeance with safety; but con- 
 trary to their expectations, he was chosen a se- 
 cond time to that office, though without the least 
 efforts on his side to get himself re-elected. They 
 now, therefore, resolved to alter their method of 
 proceeding, and endeavoured to oppose his po- 
 pularity by setting up a rival. This was Drusus 
 his colleague, who seemed to go even beyond 
 Gracchus in every proposal, and being secretly 
 backed by the senate, so far succeeded in his 
 schemes, as to divide the affections of the peo- 
 ple. The jealousy of Gracchus on this occasion 
 quickly blazed out ; he treated his colleague with
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 295 
 
 contempt ; and, as the senate foresaw, it caused 
 a very powerful party of his former admirers novy 
 to declare against him. But the greatest effort 
 to undo him was yet in reserve. For, from the 
 time of his return to Rome from Sardinia, he had 
 been elected one of the Triumviri, anofficewhich, 
 as I have mentioned before, was appointed by 
 his brother Tiberius, to determine the quantity 
 of land possessed by each individual in the state. 
 In this employment Gracchus showed himself 
 extremely assiduous; and impressed with the 
 same spirit of equality that inspired his brother, 
 endeavoured to regulate each man's possessions, 
 according to the Licinian law, with inflexible 
 justice. Those who thought themselves ag- 
 grieved by his severity, had recourse to Scipio 
 Africanus for redress. Scipio, who had been 
 long an enemy to this law, was too sensible of 
 the people's power to oppose it directly ; but 
 proceeding with more art, obtained a new officer 
 to be chosen, whose business it was to settle the 
 claims of individuals amongst each other, beforfe 
 those of the public could be determined by the 
 Triumviri. For this purpose, Tuditanus the con- 
 sul was chosen ; who thus having a power of pro- 
 tracting the wished-for division of lands. for a 
 while, seemed to bend assiduously to the business 
 for which he was chosen. However, when he 
 could no longer defer the settlement of the lands 
 in question, he pretended to be called off to quell 
 an insurrection in one of the provinces, and thus 
 left the claims and the wishes of -the people un-
 
 29^ THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 decided. An universal murmur now, therefore, 
 rose against Scipio, by whose arts the execution 
 of the law was protracted; and one of the tri- 
 bunes even cited him to appear, and give an ac- 
 count how Tiberius Gracchus came to be slain. 
 Scipio, however, disdained to answer the charge, 
 but went home, as some thought, to meditate a 
 speech for the ensuing day, but in the morning he 
 vi^as found dead in his bed ; and, by a mark round 
 his neck, it appeared that he was strangled. The 
 death of this great man produced much suspi- 
 cion against the leaders of the popular party; 
 but Gracchus particularly came in for the great- 
 est share. He, however, disdained to vindicate 
 himself from a crime of which there were no 
 proofs against him ; but willing to turn the 
 thoughts of the people another way, proposed 
 the rebuilding of Carthage, and peopling it from 
 Rome. This scheme was gladly embraced by 
 the people; and six thousand families, v.?ith Grac- 
 chus at their head, left the city in order to settle 
 .there. However, they had scarce begun to clear 
 away the rubbish, when they were disturbed by 
 several omens; which, to a superstitious people, 
 was sufficient to check the progress of every un- 
 dertaking. But much more powerful motives 
 called Gracchus back to Rome ; for his enemies, 
 during his absence, used all their art to blacken 
 his character, so that he found himself obliged to 
 return, in order to support his party, and remove 
 those prejudices which had been formed in the 
 fpinds of the people to his disadvantage. But he
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 297 
 
 soon found the populace a faithless and unsteady 
 support : they began to withdraw all their confi- 
 dence from him, and to place it upon Drusus, 
 whose character was unimpeached. It was in 
 vain that he designed new laws in their favour, 
 and called up several of the inhabitants of the 
 different towns of Italy to his support; the senate 
 ordered them all to depart Rome, and even sent 
 one stranger to prison whom Gracchus had in- 
 vited to live with him, and honoured with his table 
 and friendship. To this indignity was shortly after 
 added a disgrace of a more fatal tendency; for, 
 standing for the tribuneship a third time, he was 
 rejected; it being supposed that the officers 
 whose duty it was to make the return, were 
 bribed to reject him, though fairly chosen. 
 
 The senate no sooner saw Gracchus reduced 
 to a private station, than they determined to de- 
 stroy him; and deputed Opimius the consul, who 
 was his mortal enemy, to be the instrument of 
 their malignity against him. The consul, who, 
 beside the greatest pride, was possessed of the 
 utmost cruelty, undertook the office with great 
 readiness; and first annulled those laws which 
 were made for establishing a colony at Carthage. 
 He then proceeded to abrogate all the other laws 
 which had been made during his two tribune- 
 ships, and set a day for a general assembly of the 
 people for that purpose. 
 
 It was now seen that the fate of Gracchus was 
 resolved on. The consul was not contented with 
 the protection of all the senate and the knights.
 
 298 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 with a numerous retinue of slaves and clients; 
 but ordered a body of Candians, that were mer- 
 cenaries in the Roman service, to follow and at- 
 tend him. Thus guarded, and conscious of the 
 superiority of his forces, he insulted Gracchus 
 wherever he met him, doing all in his power to 
 produce a quarrel, in which he might have a 
 pretence of dispatching his enemy in the fray. 
 Gracchus, however, avoided all recrimination; 
 and, as if apprised of the consul's designs, would 
 not even wear any kind of arms for his defence. 
 His friend Flaccus, however, a zealous tribune, 
 was not so remiss, but resolved to oppose party 
 against party ; and for this purpose, brought up 
 several countrymen to Rome, who came under a 
 pretence of desiring employment. When the day 
 for determining the controversy was arrived, the 
 two parties, early in the morning, attended at the 
 Capitol, where, while the consul was sacrificing, 
 according to custom, one of the lictors taking up 
 the entrails of the beast that was slain in order 
 to remove them, could not forbear crying out to 
 Fulvius and his party, " You, ye factious citi- 
 " zens, make way for honest men." This insult 
 so provoked the party to whom it was addressed, 
 that they instantly fell upon him, and pierced 
 him to death with the instruments they used in 
 writing, which they then happened to have in 
 their hands. This murder caused a great dis- 
 turbance in the assembly ; but particularly Grac- 
 chus, who saw the consequences that were likely 
 to ensue, reprimanded his party for giving his
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 299 
 
 enemies such advantage over him : he made 
 many attempts to speak, but could not be heard 
 by reason of the tumult : wherefore he was at 
 last obliged to retire homewards, and wait the 
 event. As he was going through the Forum, he 
 stopped before a statue that was raised to his 
 father's memory ; and regarding it for some time, 
 he burst into a flood of tears, as if deploring the 
 spirit of the times. His followers were not less 
 moved than he; and all joining in the sorrow, 
 vowed never to abandon a man whose only crime 
 was his affection to his country. In the mean 
 time, the senate took every method to alarm the 
 city, and increase their apprehensions of the 
 danger. The consul was directed, that the com- 
 monwealth should receive no injurj^; by which 
 form they invested him upon this slight occasion 
 with absolute and uncontrollable power. The 
 dead lictor's corse was carried in triumph through 
 the streets, and exposed to view before the se- 
 nate-house ; and the whole body of the nobles 
 received orders to be in arms the next day, with 
 their slaves and dependents, upon Mount Aven- 
 tine. On the other side, Flaccus was sedulously 
 employed in getting together the remains of his 
 shattered partizans; but it was not at present as 
 in the former commotions of the commonwealth, 
 when the plebeians were to be excited against 
 the patricians; for those distinctions were long 
 broken down : it was now only an opposition 
 between the poor and the rich, and the depressed 
 party were of consequence timorous and uncon-
 
 500 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 nected, as if already humbled by their imperious 
 masters. Gracchus, who easily foresaw his weak- 
 ness, was, however, resolved not to abandon his 
 friends, though he knew them to be unable to 
 resist his opponents. Notwithstanding, he re- 
 fused to go armed as the rest; but taking his 
 usual robe, and a short dagger for his defence, 
 in case of being attacked, he prepared to lead 
 bis followers to Mount Aventine. It was there 
 he learned that proclamation had been made by 
 the consuls, that whoever should bring either his 
 head, orthatof Flaccus, should receive its weight 
 in gold for the reward. It was to no purpose 
 that he sent the youngest son of Flaccus, who 
 was yet a child, with proposals for an accommo- 
 dation. The senate and the consuls, who were 
 sensible of their superiority, rejected all his 
 offers, and resolved to punish his offence with 
 nothing less than his death; and, in order to 
 weaken his party, they offered pardon to all 
 who should leave him immediately. This pro- 
 duced the desired effect; the people fell from him 
 by degrees, and left him very inferior forces. 
 He now, therefore, resolved to wait upon the 
 senate in person; but his friends would not per- 
 mit him, through an apprehension of losing their 
 commander. The child of Flaccus was therefore 
 sent once more to demand peace; but Opimius 
 the consul, who thirsted for slaughter, ordered it 
 to prison; and leading his forces up to Mount 
 Aventine, fell in among the crowd with ungo- 
 vernable fury. A terrible slaughter of the scarce
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 301 
 
 resisting multitude ensued ; not less than three 
 thousand citizens were slain upon the spot. 
 Flaccus attempted to find shelter in a ruinous 
 cottage; but being discovered, was slain, with, 
 his eldest son. Gracchus, at first, retired to the 
 temple of Diana, where he was resolved to die by 
 his own hand; but was prevented by two of his 
 faithful friends and followers, Pomponius and 
 Licinius, who forced him to seek safety by flight. 
 From thence he made the best of his way in or- 
 der to cross a bridge that led from the city, still 
 attended by his two generous friends, and a Gre- 
 cian slave, whose name was Philocrates. But 
 bis pursuers still pressed upon him from behind; 
 and when come to the foot of the bridge, he was 
 obliged to turn and face the enemy. His two 
 friends were soon slain, defending him against 
 the crowd, and he forced with his slave into a 
 grove beyond the Tiber, which had long been 
 dedicated to the Furies. Here finding himself 
 surrounded on every side, and no way left of 
 escaping, he prevailed upon his slave to kill 
 him; who immediately after killed himself, and 
 fell down dead upon the body of his beloved 
 master. The pursuers soon coming up, cut off 
 the head of Gracchus, and placed it for a while 
 as a trophy upon a spear. Soon after, one Sep- 
 timuleius carrying it home, first having secretly 
 taken out the brain, filled it with lead, in order 
 to make it weigh the heavier, and thus received 
 of the consul seventeen pounds of gold as his 
 recompense.
 
 302 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Thus died Caius Gracchus, about ten years 
 after his brother Tiberius, and six after he began 
 to be active in the commonwealth. He is usually 
 impeached by historians, as guilty of sedition; 
 but from what we see of his character, the dis- 
 turbance of public tranquillity was rather owing 
 to his opposers than to him ; so that instead of 
 calling the tumults of that time, the sedition of 
 the Gracchi, we should rather call them the se- 
 dition of the senate against the Gracchi, since 
 the efforts of the latter were made in vindication 
 of a law to which the senate had assented; and 
 as the former were supported by a foreign armed 
 power, that had never before meddled in the busi- 
 ness of legislation, and whose introduction at 
 that time gave a most irrevocable blow to the 
 constitution. Whether the Gracchi were actu- 
 ated by motives of ambition or patriotism in the 
 promulgation of these laws, it is impossible to 
 determine; but certain it is, from what appears, 
 that all justice was on their side, and all injury 
 on that of the senate. In fact, this body was now 
 quite changed from that venerable assembly, 
 which we have seen overthrowing Pyrrhus and 
 Hannibal, as much by their virtues as their 
 arms. They were nov/ only to be distinguished 
 from the rest of the people by their superior luxu- 
 ries; and ruled the commonwealth by the weight 
 of that authority which is gained from riches, 
 and a number of mercenary dependencies. All 
 the venal and the base were attached to them 
 from motives of self-interest; and they who still
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 305 
 
 ventured to be independent, were borne down, 
 and entirely lost in the infamous majority. In 
 short, the empire, at this period, came under the 
 government of a hateful aristocracy ; the tri- 
 bunes, who were formerly accounted protectors 
 of the people, becoming rich themselves, and 
 having no longer opposite interests from those of 
 the senate, concurred in their oppressions ; since, 
 as has been said, it was not now the struggle be- 
 tween patricians and plebeians, who only nomi- 
 nally differed, but between the rich and the poor. 
 The lower orders of the state being by these 
 means reduced to a degree of hopeless subjec- 
 tion, instead of looking after liberty, only sought 
 for a leader; while the rich, with all the suspi- 
 cion of tyrants, terrified at the slightest appear- 
 ance of opposition, intrusted men with uncon- 
 trollable power from whom they had not strength 
 to withdraw it when the danger was over. Thus 
 both parts of the state concurred in giving up 
 their freedom ; the fears of the senate first made 
 the dictator, and the hatred of the people kept 
 him in his office. Nothing can be more dread- 
 ful to a thinking mind, than the government of 
 Rome from this period, till it found refuge under 
 the protection of Augustus.
 
 304 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 From the Sedition of Gracchus to the perpetual 
 Dictatorship of Sylla, which was the first Step 
 towards the Ruin of the Commonwealth of Rome. 
 
 While the Romans were in this state of deplora- 
 ble corruption at home, they nevertheless were 
 very successful in their transactions with regard 
 to foreign powers. The senate, though corrupt 
 fathers of the commonwealth, were skilful con- 
 ductors of the empire; so that Rome, while she 
 was losing liberty, was every day gaining new 
 territories. The Balearic islands were subdued. 
 The Allobroges, who inhabited the country now 
 called Savoy, were conquered by Domitius -'Eno- 
 barbus, and annexed to the empire. Gallia 
 Narbonensis was also reduced into a province, 
 u. c. The Scordici,apeople, inhabiting Thrace, 
 ^34. though at first successful, were at last over- 
 come: and Jugurtha, king of Numidia, was to* 
 tally overthrown. The war with this monarch 
 having been related by the most elegant histo- 
 rian of antiquity, makes it incumbent upon us 
 to give it greater room in this general picture of 
 history, than the importance of the subject might 
 seem to demand. 
 
 Jugurtha was grandson to the famous Masi- 
 nissa, who sided against Hannibal with Rome. 
 He was educated with the two young princes
 
 COAlMONWEALTH OF ROME. 505 
 
 who were left to inherit the kingdom ; and being 
 superior in abihties to both, and greatly in fa- 
 vour with the people, he murdered Hiempsal, the 
 eldest son, and attempted the same by Ad herbal, 
 the younger, who made his escape, and fled to 
 the Romans for succour. Whereupon Jugurtha, 
 being sensible how much avarice and injustice 
 had crept into the senate, sent his ambassadors 
 with large presents to Rome; who so successfully- 
 prevailed, that the senate decreed him half the 
 kingdom, which he had thus acquired by murder 
 and usurpation, and sent ten commissioners to 
 divide it between him and Adherbal. The com- 
 missioners, of whom Opimius the murderer of 
 Gracchus was one, willing to follow the example 
 which the senate had set them, were also bribed 
 to bestow the most rich and populous part of the 
 kingdom upon the usurper, who, however, re-* 
 solved to possess himself of the whole. But, will- 
 ing to give a colour to his ambition, he only 
 made in the beginning incursions upon his col- 
 league's territories, in order to provoke reprisals, 
 which he knew how to convert into seeming ag- 
 gression, in case it came before the senate. This, 
 however, failing, he resolved to throw off the 
 mask, and, besieging Adherbal in Cirta, his capi- 
 tal, he at length got him into his power, and mur- 
 dered him. The people of Rome, who had still 
 some generosity remaining, unanimously com- 
 plained of this treachery ; the senate only, who 
 had been bribed to silence, continued for a while 
 in suspense. However, a consul was sent at last, 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 506 T«E HISTORY OF THl 
 
 with a powerful army, to oppose him ; but he, 
 being also infected with the avarice of the times, 
 suffered himself to be bribed, and, suspending 
 his operations, made overtures for peace. The 
 people, therefore, now more enraged than be- 
 fore, procured a decree, that Jugurtha should 
 be summoned in person before them, upon the 
 public faith of the state, in order to give an 
 account of all such as had accepted bribes. Ju- 
 gurtha made no great difficulty in throwing him- 
 self upon the clemency of Rome, and soon after 
 appeared before the people in an imploring man- 
 ner, and in a dress corresponding with his situa- 
 tion. However, instead of discovering those who 
 were bribed, he only set about renewing the evil 
 complained of; and, being sensible that all opi- 
 nions were venal at Rome, without much endea- 
 vouring to influence any by the justice of his 
 cause, he took the more certain method of in- 
 teresting them, by the distribution of his riches. 
 Wherefore when brought to be examined by the 
 people, concerning his unjust method of obtain- 
 iag the protection of the magistrates who were 
 sent to oppose him, Bebius, one of the tribunes, 
 who had been himself corrupted, enjoined him 
 silence ; so that the long wished-for discovery was 
 protracted. The people, thus seeing no hopes 
 of exposing and punishing their corrupt magi- 
 strates, put no bounds to their resentment, and 
 conceived an implacable enmity against the se- 
 nate, which, as it was just, was the more lasting. 
 In the mean time, Jugurtha being ordered to
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 307 
 
 quit Rome, obeyed. However, he could not re- 
 press a sarcasm against its venality, as he took 
 leave; for, looking back upon the city, as he 
 passed through one of the gates, " O, Rome I" 
 cried he, " how readily wouldst thou sell thy- 
 " self, if there were any man rich enough to be 
 ** thy purchaser." As he had come to Rome 
 upon the faith of the state, so that protected him 
 till he arrived at his own dominions ; but, in the 
 mean time, Albinus the consul was sent with aa 
 army to follow him. The first operations of the 
 Roman general were attended with success ; and 
 Jugurtha, finding his own inability to oppose 
 him in the field, set about circumventing him in 
 the cabinet. New proposals for peace were made 
 on his side : he was every day offering himself 
 up as a prisoner, and yet every day securing his 
 power in the state. Albinus thus saw himself 
 perplexed by treaties which he could not com- 
 prebend ; and the time of his command almost 
 insensibly elapsed, without having struck any 
 important blow% Being obliged to return, to 
 attend the election of magistrates at Rome, he 
 left the direction of the army to Aulus, his bro- 
 ther, a person every w^ay unqualified for the 
 command. His avarice induced him ta lay siege 
 to Suthul, a place almost impregnable by nature, 
 and only inviting the enemy, because it contained 
 the treasure of the king. Jugurtha, conscious 
 of the strength of the place, suffered Aulus to 
 amuse himself before it ; and at one time pretend- 
 inof fear, at another offering terms of accommoda- 
 
 x3
 
 A 
 SOS tfi£ HISTORY OF THE 
 
 tion, but still lavishing his bribes to the meanest 
 centurion, he led his antagonist into such straits 
 that he was compelled to hazard a battle upon 
 disadvantageous terms, and his vifhole army, to 
 avoid being cut to pieces, was obliged to pass 
 under the yoke. In this condition Metellus, 
 the succeeding consul, found affairs upon his 
 arrival in Numidia ; officers without confidence, 
 an army without discipline, and an enemy ever 
 watchful and ever intriguing. However, by his 
 great attention to business, and by an integrity 
 that shuddered at corruption, he soon began to 
 retrieve the affairs of Rome and the credit of the 
 army. In the space of two years, Jugurtha was 
 overthrown in several battles, forced out of his 
 own dominions, and constrained to beg a peace. 
 This Metellus offered to grant, upon condition 
 that he should first deliver up his elephants and 
 arms. With this the Numidian prince complied ; 
 and they were delivered up accordingly. He 
 was then commanded to pay two hundred thou- 
 sand pound weight of silver to defray the war : 
 this was immediately paid down. The deserters 
 were next ordered to be given up : this too was 
 complied with. At length the Roman general 
 insisted, that Jugurtha should come and surren- 
 der in person, and put himself upon his trial at 
 Rome. With this he refused to comply; and 
 thus the treaty being broken, both sides resolved 
 once more to tempt the hazards of the war. 
 All things, however, promised Metellus an easy 
 and a certain victory ; the enemy was almost
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 309 
 
 entirely subdued ; few cities remained that could 
 make resistance, and all the wiles of the Numi- 
 dian were exhausted with his treasures. It only 
 remained towards concluding the war in triumph, 
 that Metellus should be chosen consul once 
 more ; but in this he was disappointed, and an- 
 other general came in, to reap that harvest of 
 glory which his industry had sown. This was 
 Caius Marius, who had been sent with him as 
 his lieutenant in the war. This commander, who 
 became afterwards the glory and the scourge of 
 Rome, was born in a village near Arpinium, of 
 poor parents, who gained their living by their 
 labour. As he had been bred up in a partici- 
 pation of their toils, his manners were as rude as 
 his countenance was frightful. He was a man 
 of extraordinary stature, incomparable strength, 
 and undaunted bravery. He entered early into 
 the service of his country ; and was, from the be- 
 ginning, remarkable for his exact observance of 
 discipline, and his implicit obedience to those in 
 command. He sought, upon every occasion, dan- 
 gers equal to his courage; the longest marches, 
 and the most painful fatigues of war, were easy 
 to one bred up in penury and labour. He was 
 not more averse to the allurements of pleasure 
 from habit than by nature. He took all occa- 
 sions to inspire temperance by his example ; eat 
 the same- bread which was distributed to the 
 meanest sentinel ; lay upon the ground ; dressed 
 in the coarsest garments, and seemed dead to 
 every other passion but that of ambition and re^
 
 310 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 venge. He had already passed through the 
 meaner gradations of office; and each seemed 
 conferred on him as the reward of some signal 
 exploit. When he stood for the office of mili- 
 tary tribune, though his person was unknown, 
 his actions were in the mouths of the multitude. 
 When elected to that charge, his general found 
 his merit and assistance so great, that he second- 
 ed him with bis interest in procuring him to be 
 made a tribune of the people. It was in this 
 station that his ambition began to appear, and 
 his thorough detestation of the senate, whose 
 vices indeed deserved his reproaches, became 
 conspicuous. Not to be intimidated by their 
 threats, he boldly arraigned their corruption even 
 in the senate-house ; and when Metcllus, who till 
 then had patronised and raised him, disapproved 
 his zeal, he even threatened to commit him to 
 prison. However, being afterwards sent under 
 him as his lieutenant into Numidia, Metellus 
 preferred the interest of his country to private 
 resentment, and trusted Marius with the most 
 important concerns of the war. This confidence 
 was not misplaced. Marius acquitted himself 
 in every action with such prudence and resolu- 
 tion, that he was considered at Rome as second 
 in command, but first in experience and resolu- 
 tion. It was in this situation of aff*airs that Me- 
 tellus, as has been said, was obliged to solicit at 
 Rome for a continuation of his command ; but 
 Marius, whose ambition knew no bounds, was 
 resolved to obtain it for himself^ aiKl thus gain all
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 311 
 
 the glory of putting an end to the war. To that 
 end he privately inveighed against Metellus by 
 his emissaries at Rome. He insinuated among 
 the people that the war was prolonged, only to 
 lengthen out the consul's command, and assert- 
 ed, that he was able, with half the army, to make 
 Jugurtha a prisoner j engaging also, in a single 
 campaign, to bring him dead or alive to Rome. 
 By such professions as these, having excited a 
 spirit of discontent against Metellus, he had leave 
 granted him to go to Rome, to stand for the con- 
 sulship himself, which he obtained, contrary to 
 the expectation and interest of the nobles. 
 
 Marius being thus invested with the supreme 
 power of managing the war, showed himself 
 every way fit for the commission. His vigilance 
 was* equal to his valour ; and he quickly made 
 himself master of the cities which Jugurtha had 
 yet remaining in Numidia. This unfortunate 
 prince, finding himself unable to make opposition 
 singly, was obliged to have recourse for assist- 
 ance to Bocchus, king of Mauritania, to whose 
 daughter he was married. A battle soon after 
 ensued, in which the Numidians surprised the 
 Roman camp by night, and gained a temporary 
 advantage. However, it was but of short con- 
 tinuance ; for Marius soon after overthrew them 
 in two signal engagements, in one of which not 
 less than ninety thousand of the African army 
 were slain. Bocchus, now finding the Romans 
 too powerful to be resisted, did not think it ex-
 
 512 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 pedient to hazard his own crown to protect that 
 of his ally ; he, therefore, determined to make 
 peace, upon whatever conditions he might obtain 
 it, and accordingly sent to Rome, imploring its 
 protection and friendship. The senate received 
 the ambassadors with their usual haughtiness; 
 and, without complying with their request, 
 granted the suppliants not their friendship but 
 their pardon. However, they were given to un- 
 derstand, that the delivering up of Jugurtha to 
 the Romans would, in some measure, conciliate 
 their favour, and soften their resentment. At 
 first the pride of Bocchus struggled against such 
 a proposal ; but a few interviews with Sylla, who 
 was qusestor to Marius, reconciled him to this 
 treacherous measure. At length, therefore, Ju- 
 gurtha was given up, being drawn into an am- 
 buscade, by the specious pretences of his ally, 
 who deluded him by desiring a conference; and 
 he was brought over by Marius to Rome. He 
 did not long survive this overthrow, being con- 
 demned by the senate to be starved to death in 
 prison, a short time after he had adorned the 
 triumph of the conqueror. His own cruelty, in 
 some measure, deserved this fate ; but they must 
 be doubly cruel, who could thus obhge a pri- 
 soner, whom they resolved to put to death, to in? 
 crease the splendour of a procession, and thus 
 iind delight in his distress. 
 
 This victory over Jugurtha had been scarce 
 f)btained, when news was brought to Rome that
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 313 
 
 immense numbers of barbarians from the north 
 were pouring down into the Roman dominions, 
 and were threatening Italy itself with slaughter 
 and desolation. Marius was now looked upon 
 as the only person who could oppose them; and 
 he was accordingly made consul a second time, 
 contrary to the constitutions of the state, which 
 required an interval often years between each 
 consulship. The people he was to oppose were 
 the Cimbri and Teutones, vvho left their forests, 
 to the number of three hundred thousand men, 
 in order to seek new habitations in the fruitful 
 valleys of Italy. They had, some time before, 
 invaded Gaul, where they had committed great 
 ravages, and defeated many Roman armies that 
 were sent against them. Marius, however, was 
 entirely successful. He at first declined fight- 
 ing, till their force was weakened by de- u. c. 
 lay ; but afterwards engaging them as ^^^^• 
 they were passmg the Alps, in three separate 
 bodies, a bloody battle ensued, which lasted two 
 days. In this the Romans were victorious, and 
 Theutobocchus, the king of the Teutones, taken 
 prisoner, with the loss of a hundred and fifty 
 thousand men. But, though the Teutones were 
 thus utterly destroyed, the army of the Cimbri 
 still remained entire, and had actually passed the 
 Alps, after having put Catulus, the Roman con- 
 sul, to flight. Marius, however, being made 
 consul a fifth time (for the people had continued 
 Jiim in office during the former part of the war).
 
 314 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 u. c. met, and gave them a dreadful overthrovr. 
 
 653. A hundred and forty thousand of these 
 barbarians were slain, and sixty thousand taken 
 prisoners. Their wives, during the engagement, 
 fought furiously in chariots ; and at last, when 
 they saw the fortune of the field decided, slew 
 their children, and then with desperate intrepid- 
 ity destroyed each other. 
 
 Marius, by these victories, having become very 
 formidable to distant nations in war, became 
 soon after much more dangerous to his fellow- 
 citizens in peace. Metellus, from being his first 
 patron and promoter, was long grown hateful 
 to him for his superior influence in the senate, 
 so that he earnestly wished to have him banished 
 from Rome. To effect this, he employed one 
 Saturninus, who had unjustly possessed himself 
 of the tribuneship, to prefer a law for the parti- 
 tion of such lands as had been recovered in the 
 late war, and to oblige the senators to take a so- 
 lemn oath for putting it into execution, in case 
 it was passed. The law was soon enacted by the 
 interest of Marius ; but when the senate came to 
 confirm the observance of it, Metellus, who con- 
 sidered it as a renewal of the ancient disturb- 
 ances that had been so fatal to the constitution, 
 endeavoured to persuade them to reject the mea- 
 sure with disdain. At first they seemed inclined 
 to come into his advice; but the influence of his 
 rival being superior, they were content to swear; 
 aiid Metellus refusing, was obliged to go into
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 315 
 
 voluntary exile. He was received with great 
 respect by all the cities through which he pass- 
 ed; and, taking up his residence in the island of 
 Rhodes, he there seemed to forget that he was 
 great, and only studied to be happy. 
 
 This success only served to increase the arro* 
 gance of Saturninus. Being made tribune a 
 third time, he filled the city with clamour and 
 commotion. Memmius, who was of the op* 
 posite party, was killed in one of these frays, 
 as he canvassed for the consulship ; and Glau- 
 cius, the praetor, was tumultuously chosen in his 
 stead. This seemed as a signal for a general 
 encounter. The senate seemed resolved to curb 
 the insolence of the tribunes: the consuls were 
 ordered, as in dangerous times, to provide for the 
 safety of the commonwealth ; and Marius, who 
 was one of them, found himself in the disagree- 
 able situation of heading a strong body of the 
 senators and patricians against those very people 
 whom his own intrigues had put into commo- 
 tion. Saturninus and his followers were forced 
 into the Capitol ; where, for want of water, they 
 were compelled to yield, after Marius had passed 
 his word for their safety. But he was now un- 
 able to protect them : a large body of Roman 
 knights broke into the Forum and cut them to 
 pieces, while the prevailing party, elate with 
 their success, recalled Metellus from exile, 
 
 Marius, being thus doubly mortified by the 
 demolition of his party and the revocation of his 
 rival, left Rome, under pretence of performing a
 
 516 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 VOW, but, in reality, with hopes of kindling up 
 new wars in Asia, in which only his military 
 talents could have room for display. With this 
 view, he went to the court of Mithridates, at that 
 time the most powerful monarch of the East ; 
 hoping either to be dismissed with scorn, or 
 received with hospitality. In either case he 
 expected to find his account : if dismissed, it 
 would give a colour for declaring war against 
 him; if received, he would be in a better condi- 
 tion to judge of the strength of his enemy. 
 Mithridates received him with great kindness, 
 and dismissed him loaden with presents to Rome. 
 In the mean time, the strength which Marius 
 had given the popular party, was not to be de- 
 stroyed by a single blow : Drusus, the tribune, 
 whom we have seen opposing the popularity of 
 Gracchus, seemed now determined to pursue his 
 example. This well-meaning man, finding the 
 senators displeased with thejudicial power which 
 had been consigned over to the knights, and 
 perceiving the latter also making a very tyranni- 
 cal use of their authority, conceived a design 
 of conciliating both, by restoring the senate to 
 its ancient privileges, and raising a large number 
 of the equestrian order into that body. How- 
 ever, what he expected would please both, was 
 disliked by all: the senate was against having 
 their number enlarged ; the knights were averse 
 to losing their privileges ; and the people were 
 displeased at having the law of Gracchus brought 
 into danger. In order, therefore, to gain that
 
 C01kfM0N\^EALTH OF ROME. 51/ 
 
 popularity which he found he had lost by this 
 measure, he once again threatened the great 
 with the revival of the Licinian law; and that 
 the allies and confederates of Italy, who were 
 the present possessors, might sliare an equiva- 
 lent to what this law was likely to deprive them 
 of, he gave them hopes of being admitted to the 
 freedom of Rome. These promises did not fail 
 to produce their effect; the Latin towns now 
 began to look upon him as their protector, and 
 came in vast crowds to the city to support him. 
 Great contentions arose in consequence of his 
 endeavours. Deliberation had now been long 
 banished from the asseniblies of the people ; the 
 whole of their laws were enacted or rejected by 
 clamour, violence, and sedition. On one of these 
 occasions, Drusus being warmly engaged in pro- 
 moting the law for enlarging the freedom of the 
 city, he was stabbed by an unknown person, who 
 left his poignard in the wound: Drusus had just 
 strength enough to avow with his dying breath 
 the integrity of his intentions, and that there was 
 no man in the commonwealth more sincerely 
 attached to its interests than he. 
 
 The Italians being thus frustrated in their 
 aims of gaining the freedom of Rome by the 
 death of Drusus, resolved upon obtaining by 
 force, what the senate seemed to refuse them as 
 a favour. This gave rise to the Social war, in 
 which most of the states of Italy entered into a 
 confederacy against Rome, in order to obtain a 
 redress of this and all the rest of their grievances.
 
 318 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Messengers and hostages were privately sent and 
 interchanged amongst themj and, upon having 
 their claims rejected by the senate, they soon 
 broke out into open rebellion. The state now 
 saw a hundred thousand of its own soldiers con- 
 verted against itself, led on by excellent com- 
 manders, and disciplined in the Roman manner. 
 To oppose these, an equal body was raised by 
 the senate, and the conduct of the war commit- 
 ted to the consuls, together with Marius, Sylla, 
 and the most experienced generals of the time. 
 The war commenced with great animosity on 
 either side ; but the Romans seemed to have the 
 worst of it in the beginning. Rutilius, the con- 
 sul, fell into an ambuscade, and was slain. His 
 body being carried into the city, so discouraged 
 the people, that the senate decreed, that thence- 
 forward the bodies of the slain should be buried 
 where they fell. Upon this defeat, the army 
 which he conducted was given to Marius; who 
 rather might be said, not to forfeit his ancient 
 fame, than to acquire new reputation by his con- 
 duct during the present command. 
 
 After a lapse of two years, this war having 
 continued to rage with doubtful success, the 
 senate began to reflect, that whether conquered 
 or conquerors, the power of Rome was in danger 
 of being totally destroyed. In order, therefore, 
 to soften their compliance by degrees, they be- 
 gan by giving the freedom of the city to such of 
 the Italian states as had not revolted. They then 
 offered it to such as would soonest Jay down their
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 319 
 
 arms. This unexpected bounty had the desired 
 ejQfect; the allies, with mutual distrust, offered 
 each a separate treaty: the senate took them 
 one by one into favour, but gave the freedom of 
 the city in such a manner, that being empowered 
 to vote, not until all the other tribes had given 
 their suffrages, they had very little weight in the 
 constitution. In this manner they were made 
 free, all but the Samnites and Lucanians ; who 
 seemed excluded from the general compromise, 
 as if to leave Sylla, who commanded against 
 them, the glory of putting an end to the war : 
 this he performed with great conduct, storming 
 their camps, overthrowing them in several bat- 
 tles, and obliging them to submit to such terms 
 as the senate were pleased to impose. 
 
 This destructive war being concluded, which, 
 as Paterculus says, consumed above three hun- 
 dred thousand of the flower of Italy ; the senate 
 now began to think of turning their arms against 
 Mithridates, the most powerful and warlike mon- 
 arch of the East. This prince, whose domi- 
 nions were chiefly composed of the provinces 
 he had conquered, was master of Cappadocia, 
 Bithynia, Thrace, Macedon, and all Greece. 
 He was able to bring two hundred and fifty 
 thousand infantry into the field, and fifty thou- 
 sand horse. He had a vast number of armed 
 chariots, and in his ports four hundred ships of 
 war. Such power joined to so great riches, 
 served only the more to invite the ambition of 
 Rome; they but desired a pretence for a war.
 
 520 THE HISTORY OF 1"HI 
 
 which was not long wanting. The pretext wa^^ 
 his having invaded and overcome many states 
 that were in alliance with, and under the pro- 
 tection of, Rome : his having procured Tigranes, 
 king of Armenia, to declare war against the Ro- 
 mans; together with his continually upbraiding 
 the Roman state with avarice and corruption. 
 Such were the motives that induced them to 
 declare war against this king: it only remained. 
 to choose a general properly qualified to con- 
 duct the expedition. 
 
 Marius was the most experienced commander, 
 and ardently wished to go: but Sylla was just 
 chosen consul, and had obtained this dignity as 
 a recompence for his services in the Social war: 
 his fame now therefore began to equal that of 
 Marius, and he was with g^^neral consent ap- 
 pointed to conduct the Asiatic war. This gene- 
 ral, who now began to take the kad in the com- 
 monwealth, was born of a patrician family, one 
 of the most illustrious in Rome: his person was 
 elegant, his air noble, his manners easy, and ap- 
 parently sincere : he loved pleasure, but glory 
 still more: his duty still commanded him from 
 sensual delights, which, however, he never de- 
 clined, when he could enjoy them with safety: 
 he desired to please all the world, for which 
 purpose he talked of himself with modesty, and 
 of every body else with the highest commenda- 
 tion: he was liberal to all, and even prevented 
 those requests which modesty hesitated to make; 
 stooping even to an acquaintance with the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 5tt 
 
 meanest soldiers, whose manners he sometimes 
 imitated to gain their affections. In short, he 
 was a Proteus, who could adapt himself to the 
 inclinations, pursuits, follies, or the wisdom of 
 those he conversed with; while he had no cha. 
 racter of his own, except that of being a com 
 plete dissembler. His first rise was to be quaes- 
 tor or treasurer of the army under Marius in Nu^ 
 midia, where, by his courage and dexterityj he 
 contributed greatly to obtain those advantages 
 which ensued ; and it was he, particularly, who 
 persuaded Bocchus to give up Jugurtha. He 
 was afterwards chosen proconsul in the Social 
 war, where his actions entirely eclipsed those of 
 every other commander; and he was in conse- 
 quence of them now appointed to the govern-^ 
 ment of Asia Minor, a post which, as it promised 
 an immense harvest of glory and riches, was 
 earnestly sought after by Marius. 
 
 There were two incentives to the jealousy of 
 Marius, at finding Sylla thus preferred to con- 
 duct this war before him ; the honours which 
 were likely to be obtained there, and the former 
 pains he had taken to prepare himself for that 
 expedition. He, therefore, began to consider 
 this preference as an unjust partiality in favour 
 of his rival, and a tacit insult upon all his former 
 victories. He could not help thinking, that 
 his reputation deserved the first offer in all the 
 employments of the state; and he concluded 
 upon depriving Sylla of his new command. To 
 this end, he gained over to his interest one Sul- 
 voL. I. y
 
 322 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 piciiis, a tribune of the people, but chiefly noted 
 for his enmity to Sylla ; a man equally eloquent 
 and bold, of great riches but corrupt manners, 
 and rather dreaded than esteemed by the people. 
 The first effect of the conjunction of these ambi- 
 tious men, was to gain over the Italian towns to 
 their party, and for this purpose they preferred 
 a law, that these should vote, not in the rear ©f 
 the other tribes, but that they should be indis- 
 criminately possessed of all the same advantages. 
 This law was as warmly opposed by the citizens 
 of Rome, as it was resolutely defended by Ma- 
 rius and Sulpicius and the states of Italy. A 
 tumult ensued as usual, in which many were slain 
 on one side and the other. This had been scarce- 
 ly appeased, when another assembly of the peo- 
 ple was proposed, for passing the law, contrary 
 to the command of the consuls. This produced 
 a more violent commotion than even the former, 
 in which Sylla's son-in-law, who attempted to 
 oppose the law, was slain : nor was Sylla himself 
 in less danger; for, being pursued by the multi- 
 tude, he was at last obliged to take refuge in the 
 house of his enemy Marius; who, though natu- 
 rally vindictive, would not break the laws of hos- 
 pitality, which were still reverenced in Rome. 
 Having thus found means of escaping their fury, 
 and finding the opposite faction prevail, he in- 
 stantly quitted Rome, and went to the army 
 which he had commanded during the Social war, 
 and which was appointed to go under him upon 
 •the expedition into Asia. In the mean time,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 
 
 Marius and Sulpicius drove their scheme for- 
 ward without any opposition ; the law^ forgiving 
 the Itahans a full participation of the freedom of 
 the city, was passed without trouble; and by the 
 same law it was enacted, that the command of 
 the army which was to oppose Mithridates, was 
 to be transferred from Sylla to Marius. 
 
 In consequence of this, Marius immediately 
 sent down officers from Rome, to take command 
 in his name. But Sylla, as was mentioned above, 
 had predisposed the army in his own favour. 
 They were troops with whom he had gained 
 signal victories, and they were entirely devoted 
 to his command. Instead, therefore, of obeying 
 the orders of Marius, they fell upon and slew his 
 officers, and then entreated their general, that he 
 would lead them directly to take signal venge- 
 ance upon all his enemies at Rome. In the mean 
 time, Marius being informed of this, was not 
 slow in making reprisals upon such of Sylla's 
 friends as fell into his hands in the city. This 
 produced new murmurs in Sylla's camp ; the 
 army insisted upon being led to the capital, and 
 their general himself, who was naturally vindict- 
 ive, at length determined to comply. 
 
 Sylla's army amounted to six legions, the sol- 
 diers of which seemed animated with the resent- 
 ment of their leader, and breathed nothing but 
 slaughter and revenge. However, there were a 
 few yet remaining among them, that even in this 
 time of general corruption, could not think of 
 turning their arms upon their native city, but 
 
 Y s;
 
 $S4 »HE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 quitted the camp and fled. Thus a strange mi- 
 gration of difFerent parties was seen, sotme flying 
 from Rome to avoid the resentment of Marius, 
 and others deserting from the camp, not to be 
 accomplices in the guilt of Sylla. Still, how- 
 ever, the army advanced towards Rome : it was 
 to no purpose that the prastors went out from 
 the city in form, to retard them ; they broke the 
 ensigns of their office, and tore their purple robes 
 with derision. The senate next sent deputies to 
 command the army not to advance within five 
 miles of the city. The deputies were, for a 
 while, amused by Sylla ; however, they seemed 
 scarce returned to give an account of their com- 
 mission, when he arrived with all his forces at 
 the very gates of Rome. His soldiers entered 
 the city sword in hand, as into a place taken by 
 storm; Marius and Sulpicius, at the head of a 
 tumultuary body of their partizans, attempted to 
 oppose their entrance ; and the citizens them- 
 selves, who feared the sackage of the place, 
 threw down stones and tiles from the tops of the 
 houses upon the soldiers. So unequal a conflict 
 lasted longer than could have been expected; but, 
 at length, Marius and his party were obliged to 
 seek safety by flight, after having vainly offered 
 liberty to all the slaves who should assist them in 
 this emergency. 
 
 Sylla now finding himself master of the city, 
 {ylaced bodies of soldiers in different parts to 
 prevent pillage and disorder. He even punished 
 some severely for offering to enter the houses by
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. S25 
 
 force, and spent the night in visiting their quar- 
 ters, and restraining their impetuosity. The next 
 morning he began by modelling the laws so as 
 to favour his outrages. These had long lost 
 their force in the commonwealth, and were now 
 moulded into whatever form the strongest party 
 were pleased they should assume. He therefore 
 reversed all the decrees which had been passed 
 by Sulpicius. He enacted, that no law should 
 be proposed for the future, but what should be 
 previously approved by the senate : that the 
 suffrages should be given by classes, in which 
 the patricians were sure of a majority, and not 
 by tribes, in which every man having an equal 
 voice, the influence of the great was totally an- 
 nihilated. To these he added a decree, whereby 
 Marius, Sulpicius, and ten other leading men, 
 were declared enemies to their country, and by 
 which it was lawful for any person to kill them. 
 Having thus brought the laws to second his am- 
 bition, he caused the goods of the proscribed to 
 be confiscated, and next sent troops into all 
 parts to apprehend them. Marius escaped; but 
 Sulpicius was found hidden in the marshes of 
 Laurentium, and his head being cut off, was 
 carried and fixed upon the rostrum at Rome. 
 Sylla having thus, as he supposed, entirely re- 
 stored peace to the city, departed upon his ex- 
 pedition against Mithridates, hoping to give new 
 vigour to his designs, by the wealth and honours 
 which he expected to reap in the East. 
 
 But while Sylla was thus establishing his party
 
 326 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 against Marius, he had been inattentive to a 
 very formidable opponent, who was daily grow- 
 ing into popularity and power at Rome. This 
 was Cornelius Cinna, who was born of a patri- 
 cian family, but strongly attached to the people 
 from motives of ambition. He was a man eager 
 after glory, but incapable of patiently expecting 
 its regular approach : rash, hot, and obstinate, 
 but, at the same time, bold and courageous, he 
 was willing to become the leader of the people, 
 as he could not lead in the senate. He there- 
 fore offered himself for the consulship, in oppo- 
 sition to the interests of Sylla; and, either from 
 that general's inattention to one he despised, or 
 from his own great favour with the lower part of 
 the people, he obtained it. He was scarce in- 
 vested with his new dignity, but his enmity 
 broke forth : he boasted that he would annul all 
 the laws which had been lately made in favour 
 of the patricians, and accordingly began by en- 
 deavours to attach the Italians firmly to his in- 
 terest. This was only to be effected by giving 
 them an equal participation in the freedom of 
 the city, of which Sylla had lately deprived 
 them. He therefore sent private emissaries 
 among the country states, desiring their attend- 
 ance at Rome upon a certain day, and enjoining 
 thenm also to carry swords under their robes. 
 Thus, when he had prepared a party to support 
 his pretensions, he publicly proposed the law for 
 suppressing the new Italian tribes, and for giv- 
 ing them equal privileges with the rest, by mix-
 
 COM^jIONWEALTH OF HOME. 3^7 
 
 ing them among those formerly established. To 
 propose a law at this time, was in some mea- 
 sure to declare a war. An engagement ensued, 
 in which the Italians, being previously armed, 
 came off victorious for a while ; but Octavius, 
 the other consul, coming with a powerful body 
 of Sylla*s friends to oppose them, soon turned 
 the fortune of the day, and obliged the Italians 
 to quit the city. 
 
 Cinna being thus defeated in his purpose of 
 passing the law, had, notwithstanding, the plea- 
 sure of finding all the states of Italy strongly 
 united in his favour j whereupon, leaving Rome, 
 he went from city to city, declaring against the 
 tyranny of the great, and their injustice to their 
 allies, by whose assistance they had become so 
 powerful ; he allured them with fresh hopes of 
 equal privileges with the Romans, and excited 
 their pity towards himself, whose sufferings had 
 been incurred for his assiduity in their cause. 
 Having thus induced them to a general insur- 
 rection, he began to make levies both of troops 
 and money ; thus a powerful army was soon 
 raised, and Cinna, as being consul of Rome, 
 without opposition was placed at its head. In 
 the mean time, the senate, who were apprised 
 of these violent proceedings, went through the 
 forms of justice against him. Being summoned 
 to take his trial, and not appearing, he was de- 
 graded from his rank as a citizen, turned out of 
 his office of consul, and Lucius Merula, the 
 priest of Jupiter, elected in his stead. But
 
 3£8 THE HISTORY GF THE 
 
 these indignities only served to increase his dili- 
 gence and animosity. He appeared before a 
 body of the Roman forces that were encamped 
 at Capua, in an humble imploring manner, 
 without any of the ensigns of his office. He 
 entreated them with tears and protestations, not 
 to suffer the people of Rome to fall a sacrifice 
 to the tyranny of the great ; he invoked the 
 gods who punished injustice, to witness the 
 rectitude of his intentions, and so far prevailed 
 upon the soldiers, that they unanimously re- 
 solved to support his cause. The whole army, 
 with general consent, agreed to nominate him 
 consul, and, contrary to the decree of the senate, 
 invested him with the ensigns of his office; and 
 then taking the oaths of allegiance, they deter- 
 mined to follow him to Rome. Thus he saw 
 his strength increasing every day ; several of 
 the senators who were wavering before, now 
 came over to his side ; but what was equal to 
 an army in itself, tidings were brought, that 
 Marius, escaping from a thousand perils, was 
 with his son upon the road to join him. 
 
 We have already seen this formidable general 
 driven out of Rome, and declared a public ene- 
 my: we have seen him, at the age of seventy, 
 after numberless victories, and six consulships, 
 obliged to save himself, unattended and on foot, 
 from the numerous pursuits of those who sought 
 his life. After having wandered for some time 
 in this deplorable condition, he found every day 
 bis dangers increase, and his pursuers making
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 929 
 
 nearer advances. In this distress he was obliged 
 to conceal himself in the marshes of Minturnum, 
 where he spent the night up to his chin in a 
 quagmire. At break of day he left this dismal 
 place, and made towards the sea-side, in hopes 
 of finding a ship to facilitate his escape; but 
 being known and discovered by some of the in- 
 habitants, he was conducted to a neighbouring 
 town, with a halter round his neck, and with- 
 out clothes; and thus covered over with mud, 
 he was sent to prison. The governor of the 
 place, willing to conform to the orders of the 
 senate, soon after sent a Cimbrian slave to dis- 
 patch him ; but the barbarian no sooner entered 
 the dungeon for this purpose, but he stopped 
 short, intimidated by the dreadful visage and 
 awful voice of this fallen general, who sternly de- 
 manded, if he had the presumption to kill Caius 
 Marius? The slave, unable to reply, threw down 
 his sword, and rushing back from the prison, 
 cried out, that he found it impossible to kill 
 him. The governor, considering the fear of the 
 slave as an omen in the unhappy exile's favour, 
 gave him once more his freedom, and commend- 
 ing him to his fortune, provided him with a ship 
 to convey him from Italy. He from thence 
 made the best of liis way to the island of JEna.- 
 ria, and sailing onward, was forced by a tem- 
 pest upon the coast of Sicily. Here a Roman 
 quaestor, who happened to be at the same place, 
 resolved to seize him, by which he lost sixteen 
 of his crew, who were killed in their endeavours
 
 330 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to cover his retreat to the ship. He afterwards 
 landed in Africa, near Carthage, and went, in a 
 melancholy manner, to place himself among the 
 ruins of that desolated place. He soon, how- 
 ever, had orders from the praetor who governed 
 there, to retire. Marius, who rememhered his 
 having once served this very man when in ne- 
 cessity, could not suppress his sorrow at finding 
 ingratitude in every quarter of the world; and 
 preparing to obey, desired the messenger to 
 tell his master, that he had seen Marius sitting 
 among the ruins of Carthage, intimating the 
 greatness of his own fall, by the desolation that 
 was round him. He then embarked once more ; 
 and not knowing where to land without en- 
 countering an enemy, he spent the winter at 
 sea, expecting every hour the return of a mes- 
 senger from his son, whom he had sent to solicit 
 protection from an African prince, whose name 
 was Mandrastal. After long expectation, in- 
 stead of the messenger, his son himself arrived, 
 having escaped from the inhospitable court of 
 that monarch, where he had been kept, not as a 
 friend, but a prisoner, and had returned just 
 time enough to prevent his father from sharing 
 the same fate. It was in this situation, that 
 they were informed of the activity of Cinna in 
 their favour, and accordingly made the best of 
 their way to join him. 
 
 Cinna, upon being apprised of their approach, 
 sent his lictors, with all other marks of distinc- 
 tion, to join them ; but Marius would not ac-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 331 
 
 cept of these instances of respect : he sent them 
 back, as being ill suited to his abject situation, 
 and affected to appear in the wretched habit 
 which he had worn in his misfortunes. His 
 beard was long and neglected, his pace slow 
 and solemn, and all his actions showed a mind 
 stung with resentment, and meditating revenge : 
 he now, therefore, went among the towns, ex- 
 citing them to espouse his quarrel, which he 
 taught them to think was their own. Five hun- 
 dred of the principal citizens of Rome went 
 down to congratulate his return; a large num- 
 ber of veterans, who had fought under his stand- 
 ard, came to offer him their service; and to in- 
 crease his forces still more, he proclaimed free- 
 dom to all slaves who should join him, by which 
 means great crowds flocked to him from every 
 quarter. His first operation was to take the 
 city of Ostia by storm ; he then advanced with 
 his whole army, and posted himself upon the 
 Janiculum, a hill that overlooked Rome, where 
 he was joined by Cinna, with an army as nume- 
 rous as his own, and both now 'resolved to lay 
 siege to their native city. 
 
 The senate and consuls were now driven al- 
 most to despair: it was too late to send to Sylla, 
 who was gaining victories in Asia, while his 
 party was upon the brink of ruin at home. 
 Cneius Pompeius commanded an army near 
 Rome; but his actions were so equivocal, that 
 neither side could rely upon him, while both 
 equally feared him. They sent to Metellus,
 
 532 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 then lying with a body of troops among the 
 Samnites; but his soldiers, instead of granting 
 them any aid, soon after joined with Marius. 
 Thus deserted by all, they daily saw the towns 
 about the city taken and plundered, and vast 
 numbers of slaves every hour deserting over to 
 the enemy. In this exigence they had no other 
 resource but submission ; they accordingly re- 
 solved to send ambassadors to the two generals, 
 assuring them of their ready attachment, and 
 desiring them to enter the city peaceably, and 
 to spare their own countrymen. Cinna, how- 
 ever, refused to grant any audience, till he knew 
 in what manner he was to be addressed, whe- 
 ther as a private man, or as consul and first 
 officer of the state. This, for a while, created 
 some embarrassment; but it was in vain to deli- 
 berate, when submission was the only alterna- 
 tive. Cinna being restored to the consulship, 
 now received the ambassadors of the senate in 
 form, who invited him into the city, and re- 
 quested him to undertake the duties of his of- 
 fice ; they entreated him to regard his country- 
 men with tenderness, and endeavoured to ob- 
 tain from him an oath, that he would put no 
 man to death, but after a legal manner, and 
 conformable to the ancient usages of Rome. 
 Cinna refused the oath; but promised, that will- 
 ingly he would not be the cause of any man's 
 death. During this conference, Marius con- 
 tinued standing by the consul's tribunal, observ- 
 ing a profound silence; but his furious air, and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 335. 
 
 eyes glancing with fire, were but too sure pre- 
 sages of the carnage he meditated within. 
 
 The conference being ended, Cinna and Ma- 
 rius presented themselves at the gates of the 
 city, at the head of their troops: Cinna marched 
 in first, accompanied by his guards ; but Marius 
 stopped, and refused to enter, alleging, that 
 having been banished by a public decree, it was 
 necessary to have another to authorize his re- 
 turn. It was thus that he desired to give his 
 meditated cruelties the appearance of justice, 
 and while he was about to destroy thousands, 
 to pretend an implicit veneration for the laws. 
 In pursuance of his desire, an assembly of the 
 people being called, they began to reverse his 
 banishment; but they had scarce gone through 
 three of the tribes, when, incapable of contain- 
 ing his desire of revenge, he entered the city 
 at the head of his guards, and massacred all 
 who had ever been obnoxious to him, without 
 remorse or pity. Octavius the consul was kill- 
 ed in his chair of office; Merula, who had been 
 his colleague in the room of Cinna, killed him- 
 self, to avoid falling by the enemy; Caius and 
 Lucius Julius, Serranus, Lentulus, Numitorius, 
 and Bebius, all senators of the first rank, were 
 butchered in the streets, their heads placed upon 
 the rostrum, and their bodies given to be devour- 
 ed by dogs : many more shared the same fate ; 
 the satellites of Marius, breathing slaughter and 
 vengeance, stabbed the fathers of families in 
 their own houses, violated the chastity of ma.
 
 534 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 trons, and carried away their children by force. 
 Several who sought to propitiate the tyrant's 
 rage, were murdered by his command in his 
 presence ; many even of those who had never of- 
 fended him were put to death ; and, at last, 
 even his own officers never approached him but 
 with terror. Having in this manner punished 
 his enemies, he next abrogated all the laws 
 which were made by his rival, and then made 
 himself consul with Cinna. Thus gratified in 
 his two favourite passions, vengeance and am- 
 bition ; having once saved his country, and now 
 deluged it with blood ; at last, as if willing to 
 crown the pile of slaughter which he had made 
 with his own body, he died the month after, 
 aged seventy, not without suspicion of having 
 hastened his end. 
 
 In the mean time, these accounts were 
 brought toJSylla, who was sent against Mithri- 
 dates, and who was performing many signal 
 services against him. That monarch having 
 caused a hundred and fifty thousand Romans, 
 who were in his dominions, to be slain in cold 
 blood, next sent his general Archelaus to op- 
 pose Sylla ; however, he was defeated near 
 Athens, with the loss of an immense number of 
 his forces. Another battle ensued, by which 
 the Roman general recovered all the countries 
 that had been usurped by Mithridates. The loss 
 of the king's fleet followed soon after ; so that 
 both parties were now inclined to an accommo- 
 dation; Mithridates induced by his losses, and
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 335 
 
 Sylla by a desire of returning home to take 
 vengeance on his enemies in Rome. A peace 
 was accordingly soon after concluded ; the prin- 
 cipal articles of which were, that Mithridates 
 should defray the charges of the war, and 
 should be content with his own hereditary do- 
 minions. Thus having in less than three u. c. 
 years brought the Asiatic war to an ho- 670. 
 nourable period, Sylla prepared for his return, 
 previously informing the senate by letter, of all 
 the great services he had done the state, and the 
 ungrateful return |,he had received from such as 
 envied his fortune; adding a dreadful menace, 
 that he would soon be at the gates of Rome 
 with a victorious and powerful army, to take 
 signal revenge upon his own enemies and those 
 of the state. The senate, who were now to be 
 considered rather as a party formed by Marius, 
 than as the independent protectors of Rome, 
 greatly dreaded the effects of Sylla's return : they 
 already anticipated the slaughters he was about 
 to make, and therefore sent to treat with him, 
 offering to comply with whatever terms he should 
 propose, provided he would let them know 
 the limits he intended to set to his resentment. 
 They even ordered Cinna, who, as we have ob- 
 served before, had been elected consul with 
 Marius, to discontinue his levies, and join with 
 them in deprecating Sylla's anger by timely sub- 
 mission. Cinna, however, knew too well how 
 little mercj' he had to expect from his opponent, 
 and, instead of obeying the senate, returned them
 
 SS6 ' THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 an evasive answer ; but, in the mean time, pro. 
 ceeded to raise forces, and to oppose SjUa even 
 in Asia, by sending an army tliitlier, under pre- 
 tence, tiiat wbat was acted against Mithridates 
 hitherto, was against the consent and with- 
 out the authority of the senate. For this pur- 
 pose he dispatched a body of forces under the 
 command of Valerius Flaccus, his colleague in 
 the consulship, into Asia. However, as this 
 leader was unexperienced in the field. Fimbria, 
 an old soldier of reputation, was sent as his 
 lieutenant, with directions to correct, by his ex- 
 perience, the too great impetuosity of the gene- 
 ral. They soon, however, began to differ, and 
 the breach widening every day, the consul 
 thought proper to depose Fimbria from his com- 
 mand. But all confidence and order was now 
 lost in the military as well as in the civil depart- 
 ments of the state. Fimbria, instead of submit- 
 ting to his superior, brought his cause before 
 the army 5 a general mutiny ensued; the consul 
 attempted to escape, but being discovered at the 
 bottom of a well, was dragged out, and mur- 
 dered by his own soldiers. In the mean time. 
 Fimbria taking the command of the army, led it 
 against Mithridates, over whom he gained a 
 signal victory, and might have completed his 
 triumph over that monarch, but the same dis- 
 obedience which he was guilty of to his own 
 commander, his soldiers, practised against him ; 
 for shortly after, at Sylla's approach, his troops 
 all deserted, to join their fellow-citizens in the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 337 
 
 Other army ; so that Fimbria being thus left alone^ 
 fled to the temple of'iEsculapius, in Pergamus, 
 where he fell upon his sword ; but the wound not 
 proving mortal, his slave dispatched him, killing 
 himself upon the body of his master* 
 
 In the mean time, the ill success of this army 
 did not intimidate Cinna from making prepara- 
 tions to repel his opponent. Being joined by 
 Carbo, who was now elected in the room of 
 Valerius, who had been slain, together with 
 j'^oung Marius, who inherited all the abilities 
 and the ambition of his father, he determined to 
 send over part of the forces he had raised into 
 Dalmatia, to oppose Sylla before he entered 
 Italy. Some troops were accordingly embarked ; 
 but these being dispersed by a storm, the rest 
 that had not yet put to sea, absolutely refused 
 to go. Upon this, Cinna, quite furious at their 
 disobedience, rushed forward to persuade them 
 to their duty, However, one of the most muti- 
 nous of the soldiers being struck by an officer, 
 and returning the blow, he was apprehended 
 for his crime. This ill-timed severity produced 
 a tumult and a mutiny through the whole army; 
 and while Cinna did all he could to prevent or 
 appease it, he was run through the body by 
 one of the crowd. The army being thus de- 
 prived of their principal leader, continued un- 
 der Carbo, who kept himself consul, without 
 a colleague, for some time. The next year's 
 consuls being Urbanus and Scipio, new levies 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 were made, and the affairs of the party seemed 
 to wear a very favourable aspect. It was not 
 doubted but Sylla would take signal vengeance 
 for his late injuries, and do all in his power to 
 suppress the late popular laws, enacted in his 
 absence : all the lower part of the citizens, there- 
 fore, and the majority of the senate, were against 
 him; the one from principles of democracy, 
 the other through fear. Thus a great concourse 
 of people came from different parts of Italy 
 to take part with the consuls, who soon saw 
 themselves at the head of an army superior to 
 that of Sylla, whose approach was so much 
 dreaded by all. 
 
 During these preparations, Sylla was not less 
 expeditious, by long and forced marches, in 
 returning to his native country, which he in- 
 tended to deluge with blood. Being arrived at 
 Dyrrhachium, where he had prepared a fleet to 
 convey him into Italy, he harangued his army 
 before they embarked, entreating that they 
 would engage themselves by an oath to con- 
 tinue faithful to his cause. This they unani- 
 mously consented to do ; and, as an earnest of 
 their sincerity, offered him all the money which 
 they had gained in their late expeditions, to- 
 wards supporting the expences of the war. 
 Sylla, pleased at their alacrity, refused their in- 
 tended favours, assuring them, that they should 
 soon share much greater rewards from his 
 bounty than he had as yet been able to be-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 339 
 
 stow; and then embarking his troops, landed 
 them, after a favourable passage, at Brundusium 
 in Italy. 
 
 He had been scarce arrived there, but the re- 
 mains of that shattered party which had escaped 
 the proscriptions of Marius, came to join him. 
 Metellus was the first, with a large body of 
 forces which he had collected in his way. Mar- 
 cus Crassus came with a supplj^, as also Cethe- 
 gus ; but of all the succours which he received, 
 none were more timely or pleasing, than those 
 which were brought him by Cneius Pompey, 
 afterwards surnamed the Great. This comman- 
 der, though yet but twenty-three, began already 
 to show the dawnings of that ambition, which 
 afterwards shone with such lustre in the com- 
 monwealth. Though at that time invested with 
 no public character, he found means to raise 
 an army of three legions in Picaenum, and to 
 overthrow Brutus, who commanded the troops 
 of the opposite faction in that district. This 
 victory was also signalized by his killing the 
 general of the Gaulish cavalry, who opposed 
 himself in single combat ; for which he was sa- 
 luted with the highest marks of respect by Sylla, 
 who seemed to have a prescience of his future 
 greatness. 
 
 A civil war being thus determined upon, and 
 both parties being now advanced very near 
 each other, Sylla was willing to try, how far 
 the immense riches he brought with him from 
 Asia were capable of shaking the enemies'
 
 540 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 forces, without a battle. For this purpose, be 
 at first pretended to be averse to engaging, and 
 sent deputies to Scipio the consul, who com- 
 manded against him, with proposals for coming 
 to a treaty. The consul, who sought for nothing 
 so much as peace, very readily embraced his 
 offer, but desired time, previously to confer 
 ,with Urbauus his colleague, upon a measure in 
 which he was equally concerned. This was all 
 that Sylla desired, for in the mean time a sus- 
 pension of arms being agreed upon, his soldiers 
 went into the opposite camp, displaying those 
 riches which they had acquired in their expedi- 
 tions, and offering to participate with their fel- 
 low-citizens in case they changed their party. 
 The same motives that had prevailed on the sol- 
 diers of Fimbria to desert him, now prevailed 
 upon these to desert their general. The whole 
 army declared unanimously for Sylla, and Sci- 
 pio scarce knew that he was forsaken and de- 
 posed, till he was informed of it by a party of 
 the enemy, who, entering his tent, made him 
 and his son their prisoners. Sylla, however, acted 
 with great moderation towards him j he would 
 permit no injury to be done to the consul, but 
 employed all his arts to bring him over to his 
 party. After much entreaty, finding him in- 
 flexible, he generously gave him his freedom; 
 having previously obtained his promise, not to 
 command against him during the rest of his 
 consulship. 
 
 Sylla having succeeded so well in this instance.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 341 
 
 resolved to try the same arts upon the army com- 
 manded by Norbanus, the other consul. He sent 
 deputies to him, desiring a conference ; but the 
 consul, instructed by the disgrace of his col- 
 league, confined the deputies, and marched di- 
 rectly against him, hoping to come upon him by 
 surprise. An engagement ensued, in which Syl- 
 Ia*s men, though attacke'd in disorder, repaired 
 by their courage what they wanted in regularity. 
 Norbanus lost seven thousand men, and was 
 obliged to take refuge in Capua, with the re- 
 mainder of his army. 
 
 Italy now began to feel all the desolations and 
 miseries of a declared civil war, nor were the 
 secret intrigues of corruption carried on by both 
 parties with less perseverance and assiduity : the 
 emissaries of each were seen going diligently, 
 during the whole winter, up and down among 
 the states of Italy, labouring by all the arts of 
 bribery and persuasion to gain over forces to 
 their cause. Sylla was particularly versed in 
 the business of seduction, and vast sums of that 
 money which had been plundered from the 
 East, went all orer the country and even among 
 the barbarous nations of Gaul, to extend his in- 
 terests. On the other hand, the Samnites, to the 
 number of forty thousand men, declared in favour 
 of Carbo, his chief opposer, who was now chosen 
 consul a third time, with young Marius, of whom 
 his party had formed great expectations. The 
 operations in the field, which had been suspend- 
 ed during the winter, opened with still greater
 
 542 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 vigour m the beginning of the spring. Marius, 
 at the head of twenty-five cohorts, ofi'ered Sylla 
 battle, which this general, knowing how the 
 troops against him were predisposed, readily 
 accepted. At first the fortune of the day seem- 
 ed doubtful ; but just at that very period in 
 which victory begins to waver, a part of the 
 troops of Marius, which had been previously 
 corrupted, fled in disorder, and thus decided the 
 fate of the day. Marius having vainly endea- 
 voured to rally his troops, was the last that fled "; 
 and went to take refuge in Praeneste, a strong 
 city, that was still steadfast in his cause. Sylla 
 closely pursued him there, and invested the city 
 on every side : then, having disposed his army 
 in such a manner as that none of the defendants 
 could escape, and no forces could be thrown into 
 the garrison from without, he marched at the 
 head of a detachment to Rome. 
 
 The partizans of Marius having been apprised 
 of his defeat, abandoned the city with precipita- 
 tion, so that Sylla approached without resistance. 
 The inhabitants, thinned by famine and all the 
 terrors that attend a civil war, opened their gates 
 upon his arrival ; wherefore entering the Forum, 
 and assembling the people, he reprimanded them 
 for their infidelity. However, he exhorted them 
 not to be dejected, for he was still resolved to 
 pardon and protect them. He observed, that 
 he was obliged by the necessity of the times to 
 take vigorous measures, and that none but their 
 enemies and his own should suffer. He then
 
 COMMONAVEALTH OF ROME. 543 
 
 put up the goods of those that fled, to sale ; and 
 leaving a small garrison in the city, returned to 
 besiege his rival. 
 
 Young Marius, on the other hand, made many 
 attempts to raise the siege ; but all his designs 
 were known to Sylla before they were put into 
 execution. Wherever his sallies were pointed, 
 the peculiar attention of Sylla's lieutenant seem- 
 ed to be directed there. Thus, frequently frus- 
 trated in his attempts to repress, or at least to 
 escape his besiegers, he gave way to that resent- 
 ment which was remarkable in his family ; and, 
 ascribing his detention to the treachery of Sylla's 
 friends, who pretended to remain neuter, he sent 
 orders to Rome, to Brutus, who was praetor 
 there, to put all those senators to death whom 
 he suspected to be in the interest of his rival. 
 With this cruel command, Brutus immediately 
 complied; and many of the first rank, among 
 whom were Domitius Antistius and Scasvola, 
 were slain as they were leaving the senate. Thus, 
 whatever faction was victorious, Rome was still 
 •a, miserable sufferer. 
 
 Both factions thus exasperated to the highest 
 degree, and expecting no mercy on either part, 
 gave vent to their fury in several engagements. 
 The forces on the side of Marius were the most 
 numerous, but those of Sylla better united and 
 more under subordination. Carbo, who com- 
 manded an army for Marius in the field, sent 
 eight legions to Praeneste, to relieve his col- 
 league; but they were met by Pompey in a
 
 344 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 defile, who slew many of them, and dispersed 
 the rest. Carbo, joined by Urbanus, soon after 
 engaged Metelius, but was overcome with the 
 loss of ten tliousand men slain and six thousand 
 taken prisoners. In consequence of this defeat, 
 Urbanus killed himself, and Carbo fled to Africa ; 
 where, after wandering a long time, he was at 
 last delivered up to Pompey, who, to please 
 Sylla, ordered him to be beheaded. Still, how- 
 ever, a numerous yrmy of Samnites were in the 
 field, headed by several Roman generals, and by 
 Telesinus; who, though a Samnite, had shown 
 himself equal to the greatest commanders of the 
 age. These were joined by four legions, com- 
 manded by Carianus, who was still obstinately 
 bent upon continuing the war. These, united, 
 were resolved to make one desperate effort to 
 raise the siege of Praeneste, or to perish in the 
 attempt. Accordingly, Telesinus made a show 
 of advancing with great boldness, to force the 
 enemy's lines of circumvallation. At the same 
 time, Sylla, at the head of a victorious army, 
 faced him in front, while orders were sent to 
 Pompey to follow and attack him in the rear. 
 The Samnite general, however, showed himself 
 superior to both in these operations; for, judg- 
 ing of their designs by their motions, he led off 
 his troops by night ; and by forced marches ap- 
 peared next morning upon the mountains that 
 overlooked Rome. This wretched city had just 
 time sufficient to shut its gates, to prevent his 
 entrance; but he hoped to s^ize the place by a
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 345 
 
 bold assault, and encouraging his soldiers, both 
 by their ancient enmity to the Roman state and 
 their hopes of immense riches upon the capture, 
 he broughlfon his men, and led them boldly to 
 the very walls. Appius Claudius, who was at 
 that time in Rome, and in the interests ofSylla, 
 made a sally to oppose him, rather with hope 
 of delaying the assailants than of entirely repress 
 ing them. The Romans fought with that vigour 
 which the consciousness of defending every thing 
 dear inspires. But Appius was killed in the 
 combat; and the rest, disheartened by the loss 
 of their general, seemed preparing for flight. 
 Just at this interval, a party of Sylla's horse ap- 
 peared at the opposite gates, who, throwing them- 
 selves into the city, and hastening through it, 
 met the assailants on the other side. The des- 
 perate fury of these in some measure suspended 
 the fate of the battle, till Sylla with his whole 
 arm}"- had time to arrive. It was then that a 
 general and dreadful conflict ensued between 
 the Samnite and Roman army. The citizens 
 from their walls beheld thousands fall on both 
 sides. At first, the forces commanded by Sylla, 
 on the left, gave way ; but his lieutenant Cras- 
 sus was victorious on the right. The battle con- 
 tinued all day, till late at night, nor was it till 
 the morning that Sylla found himself completely 
 victorious. He then visited the field of battle, 
 on which more than fifty thousand of the van- 
 quished and victors lay promiscuously. Eight 
 thousand of the Samnites were made prisoners.
 
 34(> THE IlISTOllY OF THE 
 
 and killed in cold blood, after the engagement. 
 Marcius and Carinus attempting to escape, were 
 taken; and their heads being cut ofF, were sent, 
 by Sylla's command, to be carried round the walls 
 of Praeneste. At this sorrowful sight, the inha- 
 bitants of the place, being now destitute of pro- 
 visions, and despairing of all succour from with- 
 out, resolved to surrender; but it was only to 
 experience the unrelenting fury of the conqueror, 
 who ordered all the males to be slain. Marius, 
 the cause of these calamities, was at first missing, 
 and it was thought had got off; but he was at 
 last discovered lying dead, with a captain of the 
 Samnites, at the issue of one of the subterranean 
 passages that led from the city, where they had 
 tried to escape, but finding it guarded by the 
 enemy, killed themselves. The city of Norba 
 was now all that remained unsubdued in Italy; 
 but the inhabitants, after along resistance, dread- 
 ing the fate of Praeneste, set their town on fire, 
 and desperately perished in the flames. The 
 destruction of this place put an end to the civil 
 war: Sylla now became undisputed master of his 
 country, and entered Rome at the head of his 
 army. Happy, had he supported in peace the 
 glory which he had acquired in war, or had he 
 ceased to live when he ceased to conquer. 
 
 Being now no longer obliged to wear the mask 
 of lenity, he began his reign by assembling the 
 people, and desired an implicit obedience to his 
 commands, if they expected favour. He then 
 published, tliat those who expected pardon for
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 347 
 
 their late offences, should gain it by destroying 
 the enemies of the state. This was a new mode 
 of proscription, by which the arms of all were 
 turned against all. Great numbers perished by 
 this mutual power which was given the people, 
 of destroying each other; and nothing was to 
 be found in every place but menaces, distrust, 
 and treachery. Eight thousand who had escaped 
 the general carnage, offered themselves to the 
 conqueror at Rome : he ordered them to be put 
 into the Villa Publica, a large house in the Cam- 
 pus Martius, and at the same time convoked the 
 senate: there he spoke with great fluency, and 
 in a manner no way discomposed, of his own 
 exploits; and, in the mean time, ordered all those 
 wretches whom he had confined to be slain. The 
 senate, amazed at the horrid outcries of the suf- 
 ferers, at first thought that the city was given up 
 to plunder; but Sylla, with an unembarrassed 
 air, informed them, that it was only some crimi- 
 nals who were punished by his order; and that 
 they need not to make themselves uneasy about 
 their fate. The day after, he proscribed forty 
 senators, and sixteen hundred knights; and, 
 after an intermission of two days, forty senators 
 more, with an infinite number of the richest 
 citizens of Rome. He declared the children and 
 grandchildren of the opposite party infamous, 
 and divested of the rights of freedom. He or- 
 dained, by a public edict, that those who saved 
 or harboured any of the proscribed, should suffer 
 in their place. He set a price upon the heads
 
 348 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of such as were thus to be destroyed, two ta- 
 lents being the reward affixed for every n:iurder. 
 Slaves, invited by such offers, were seen to kill 
 their masters, and (still more shocking to huma- 
 nity 1) children, whose hands still reeked with the 
 blood of their parents, came confidently to de- 
 mand the wages of parricide. Nor were the ene- 
 mies of the state the only sufferers; Sylla per- 
 mitted his soldiers to revenge their private inju- 
 ries; so that husbands were slain, by such as de- 
 sired to enjoy their widows; and children were 
 slain in the embraces of their parents, who were 
 soon to share the same fate. Riches now became 
 dangerous to the possessor, and even the repu- 
 tation of fortune was equivalent to guilt. Aure- 
 lius, a peaceful citizen, without any other crime, 
 found his name among the number of the pro- 
 scribed, and could not help cr^'ing out, just before 
 his assassination, that he owed his death to the 
 macfnificence of his palace at Alba. But the 
 brother of Marius felt the conqueror's most 
 refined cruelty. First, he had his eyes plucked 
 out deliberately, then his hands and legs cut off 
 at several times, to lengthen his torments, and in 
 this agonizing situation he was left to expire. 
 But these barbarities were not confined only to 
 Rome, the proscription was extended to many of 
 the inhabitants of all the cities of Italy, and even 
 whole towns and districts were ordered to be laid 
 desolate. These were given to his soldiers as re- 
 wards for their fidelity; who, still wanting more, 
 excited him to new cruelty. In this general
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 349 
 
 slaughter, Julius Cassar, who had married Cinna's 
 daughter, very hardly escaped the miseries of the 
 times : Sylla was prevailed upon to let him live; 
 though he was heard to say, that there were 
 many Mariuses in Csesar. 
 
 However, these arbitrary confiscations, and 
 numerous largesses which were given to liis fol- 
 lowers, were not to be retained without some 
 share of continuing power. He therefore re- 
 solved to invest himself with the dictatorship, 
 wdiich, by uniting all civil as well as military 
 power in his own person, he might thus give an 
 air of justice to every oppression. He, therefore, 
 withdrew a while from the city, and gave orders 
 that, since affairs still remained unsettled, the 
 people should be applied to, to create a dictator, 
 and that not for any limited time, but till the 
 public grievances should be redressed. To these 
 directions he added his request, which, as he 
 was possessed of all power, was equivalent to a 
 command, that he himself should be chosen. To 
 this the people being constrained to yield, he was 
 chosen perpetual dictator ; and thus the Romans 
 received a master invested with an authority far 
 more absolute than any of their kings had been 
 possessed of before. 
 
 The government of Rome, having now passed 
 through all the forms of monarchy, aristocracy, 
 and democracy, at length began to settle into 
 despotism, from which, though it made some 
 faint struggles to be free, yet it never completely 
 extricated itself till its total dissolution. Sylla,
 
 350 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to amuse the people with a show of their former 
 government, permitted them to have consuls, but 
 at the same time took care that none but his own 
 creatures should be elected, and that all their 
 power should be entirely derived from him. He 
 made several new laws for regulating the different 
 offices of the state. He totally destroyed the 
 power of the tribunes, by enacting, that those 
 who bore it, should be incapable of obtaining 
 any other office. He added three hundred of the 
 knights to the senate, and ten thousand of the 
 slaves of those who were proscribed to the body of 
 the people. To establish these regulations more 
 firmly, he appropriated to himself the treasures 
 of the public, and lavished them in widening his 
 dependencies, and strengthening his interest: he 
 seemed to think he never could sufficiently re- 
 ward his creatures, if they were but implicit in 
 their obedience. Crassus, who was already the 
 richest man in the state, was ever soliciting an 
 accumulation of his favours, and buying up the 
 effects of such as were proscribed at an under 
 rate. Pompey put away his wife Antistia to 
 oblige him, and married Emilia, the dictator's 
 step- child. He attempted to exercise the same 
 power over Julius Ceesar, by obliging him to re- 
 pudiate his wife Cornelia; but that young Roman 
 chose to banish himself from the city rather 
 than comply, and never returned till Sylla was 
 n© more. 
 
 In this manner he continued to govern with 
 capricious tyranny, none daring to resist his
 
 COWWONWEALTII OF ROIUE. 551 
 
 power. Lucretius Offela showed how dangerous 
 it was to control a tyrant in the full exercise of 
 his authority: this man ventured to offer himself 
 for the consulship, in opposition to one ofSylla's 
 decrees, which had forbidden any man's aspiring 
 to that dignity without having gone through the 
 regular gradations of ofiice. However, as he had 
 formerly rendered some very signal services to 
 his party, he thought that would excuse him. 
 He was, therefore, at first desired to desist from 
 his attempt; but persevering, Sylla ordered one 
 of his satellites to stab him, and then threatened 
 to serve any other person in the same manner, 
 who should attempt to invalidate his authority. 
 By such means as these, he was submitted to 
 with the most blind obedience. Whenever he 
 proposed laws, the people assembled, not to de- 
 liberate upon their fitness, but to give them the 
 sanction of their consent. They found them- 
 selves quite ejected from any concern in the 
 »tate, and saw nothing before them but a pro- 
 spect of hopeless and confirmed slavery. It was 
 at this juncture that, contrary to the expectations 
 of all mankind, Sylla laid down the dictatorship, 
 having held it not quite three years. 
 
 It was not without the greatest surprise, that 
 the people saw this conqueror, who had made 
 himself so many enemies in every part of the 
 state, quitting a power he had earned by such 
 various dangers, and reducing himself to the rank 
 of a private citizen. But their wonder increased 
 when they heard him, after so manv acts of cru-
 
 352 THE HISTORY 0F THK 
 
 elty, and such numberless massacres, offering to 
 take his trial before the people, whom he consti- 
 tuted judges of his conduct. Having divested 
 himself in their presence of his office, and dis- 
 missed the lictors who guarded him, he continued 
 to walk for some time in the Forum, unattended 
 and alone. At the approach of evening he re- 
 tired homewards, the people following him all 
 the way in a kind of silent astonishment, mixed 
 with the profoundest respect. Of all that great 
 multitude which he had so often insulted and ter- 
 rified, none was found hardy enough to reproach 
 or accuse him, except one young man, who pur- 
 sued him with insulting language to his own 
 door. Sylla disdained replying to so mean an 
 adversary; but turning to those who attended 
 him, observed, that this fellow's insolence would 
 for the future prevent any man's laying down an 
 office of such supreme authority. It is not easy 
 to divine the motives of Sylia's abdication, whe- 
 ther they were from vanity or a deep-laid scheme 
 of policy ; whether, being satiated with the 
 usual adulation which he received for his con- 
 quests, he was now desirous also of receiving 
 some for his patriotism ; or whether, dreading an 
 assassination from some secret enemy, he was 
 willing to disarm him, by retiring from the splen- 
 dours of an envied situation. However this may 
 be, he soon retired into the country, in order to 
 enjoy the pleasures of tranquillity and social hap- 
 piness; but he did not long survive his abdication ; 
 he died of that disease which is called the morbus
 
 COMMONWEALTft OF ROME. 353 
 
 pedicular is, a loathsome object, and mol'tifyin* 
 to huifnan ambition. He was the first of his fa- 
 mily whose body was burnt; for having ordered 
 the remains of Marius to be taken out of his 
 grave and thrown into the river Anio, he was ap- 
 prehensive of the same insult upon hi^ own, if 
 left to the usual way of burial. A little before 
 his death, he made his own epitaph, the tenour 
 of which was. That no man had ever exceeded 
 him in doing good to his friends, or injury to' his 
 enemies. ■ ' 
 
 As soon as Sylla was dead, the old diss^T?il(5ft^, 
 that had been smothered a while by the terror of 
 his power, burst out again into a flame bfetWeen 
 the two factions, supported severally by the two 
 consuls, Catulus and Lepidus, who were wholly 
 opposite to each other in party and politics. 
 Lepidus resolved, at all adventures, to rescind the 
 acts of Sylla, and recal the exiled Marians, be- 
 ginning openly to solicit the people to support 
 him in that resolution. This attempt, though 
 plausible, was at this time particularly unseason- 
 able, when the state was just recovering froth the 
 wounds it had lately received in the civil war. 
 On the other hand, Catulus, whose father had' 
 been condemned to die by Marius, inheriting the 
 principles of his family, vigorousl}' opposed and 
 effectually counteracted the designs of his col- 
 league. Lepidus, thus finding himself unable t6* 
 attain his ends without recurring to arms, retired 
 to his government of Gaul, with intent to raise a 
 force suflficient to subdue all opposition, where 
 
 VOL. I. 2 a
 
 554 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the report of his levies and military preparations 
 gave such umbrage to the senate, that they soon 
 abrogated his command. Upon this, he advanced 
 into Italy at the head of a large army, and march- 
 ed in a hostile manner towards Rome, to demand 
 a second consulship. He had with him several 
 of the chief magistrates, and the good wishes of 
 all the tribunes ; so that he hoped, by the popu- 
 larity of his cause, to advance himself into Sylla's 
 place, and usurp the sovereign authority of the 
 state. Catulus, in the mean time, upon the ex^ 
 piration of his office, was invested with the charge 
 of defending the government; and Pompey also 
 was, by a decree of the senate, joined with him 
 in the same commission. These, therefore, hav- 
 ing united their forces before Lepidus could 
 reach the city, came to an engagement with him, 
 near the Milvian Bridge, within two miles of 
 Rome, where they totally routed and dispersed 
 his whole army. But Cisalpine Gaul still re- 
 maining in the possession of Brutus, his lieuten- 
 ant, and the father of him who afterwards killed 
 Caesar j Pompey went to reduce that province, 
 where Brutus, having sustained a siege in Mo- 
 dena, was taken, and put to death by Pompey's 
 order. As for Lepidus, he escaped into Sardinia, 
 where he died soon after of grief, to see his hopes 
 destroyed, and his country fallen under the ari- 
 stocratical faction. 
 
 But the hopes of the Marian party did not 
 entirely expire here. A more dangerous enemy 
 still remained in Spain, wh© for a while made it
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 355 
 
 doubtful, whether that province or Rome should 
 possess the empire of the world. This was Ser- 
 torius, a veteran soldier, who had been bred under 
 Marius, and had learned all his virtues, without 
 sharing one of his vices. He was temperate, 
 just, merciful, and brave ; but his military skill 
 seemed to exceed that of any other general of 
 his time. Upon the extinction of the Marian 
 party, this brave commander fell into the hands 
 of Sylla, who dismissed him with life, upon ac- 
 count of his known moderation. Yet soon after, 
 capriciously repenting of his clemency, he pro- 
 scribed and drove him to the necessity of seeking 
 safety in a distant province. Sertorius being 
 thus banished from Rome, after several attempts 
 on Africa and the coasts of the Mediterranean, 
 found at last a refuge in Spain, whither all who 
 fled from Sylla's cruelty resorted to him, of 
 whom he formed a senate, that gave laws to the 
 whole province. There, by his great abilities 
 and clemency, he so gained the hearts of the 
 warlike inhabitants, that for eight years he con- 
 tinued to sustain a war against the whole power 
 of the Roman state. Metellus, an old experi- 
 enced commander, was sent against him at first; 
 but he was so often out-generalled by his oppo- 
 nent, that the senate were forced to send their 
 favourite Pompey to his assistance, with the best 
 troops of the empire. Sertorius maintained his 
 ground against them both, and after many en- 
 gagements, in which he generally came off equal 
 and often superior, he began to meditate nothing 
 
 2a 2
 
 5S6 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 less than the invasion of Italy. But all his 
 schemes were baffled by the treachery of one of 
 his own lieutenants, who was next him in com- 
 mand, and envied his rising reputation. This 
 wretch's name was Perpenna, who had some time 
 before come, over to him with the shattered re- 
 mains of Lepidus's army, and was at first an use- 
 ful assistant. However, a jealousy arising be- 
 tween them, Perpenna invited him to a sumptu- 
 ous entertainment, where, having intoxicated all 
 his attendants, he fell upon Sertorius, and treach- 
 erously murdered him. But this stroke of bar- 
 barity only served to ruin his party, which had 
 been entirely supported by the reputation of the 
 general : for soon after, Perpenna being easily 
 overthrown by Pompey, was taken prisoner, and 
 all the revolted provinces readily submitted. The 
 conqueror is celebrated on this occasion for an 
 action of great prudence and generosity. Per- 
 penna, in hopes to save his life, offered to make 
 some important discoveries, and to put into his 
 hands all the papers of Sertorius, in which were 
 several letters to and from the principal senators' 
 of Rome. Pompey, however, rejecting his offer, 
 ordered the traitor to be slain,' and his papers to 
 be burnt without reading them. By these means 
 he eased the people of their fears, and prevented 
 those acts of desperation, which the conscious- 
 ness of being discovered might have given rise to. 
 The present prosperity of Pompey was highly 
 pleasing at Rome; he had hitherto been success- 
 ful in all his affairs, and.in this instance, as if for*^.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF HOME. 35f 
 
 tune had delighted in giving him new opportu- 
 nities of serving his country, he seemed peculiarly 
 fortunate. Upon his return, he fell in with a 
 large body of slaves, that had escaped after their 
 overthrow by Crassus in Italy, and cut them to 
 pieces. This insurrection, which Pompey had 
 the good fortune of thus terminating, was called 
 the Servile war, and took its rise from a few gla- 
 diators, who broke from the fencing-school at- 
 Capua, and having drawn a number of slaves after 
 theni, overthrew Glaber the pragtor, who was 
 sent to suppress them ; and from this success^ 
 their number presently increased to an army 
 of forty thousand men. With this strength, and 
 headed by Spartacns their general, they sustain- 
 ed a vigorous war for three years, in the very 
 heart of Italy : they defeated several commanders 
 of consular and praetorian rank, and even beganr 
 to talk of attacking Rome. But Crassns having 
 gathered about hvm all the forces which were 
 near home, drove them before him to the extre- 
 mity of Rhegium, where, for want of vessels to 
 make their escape, the greatest part of them were 
 destroyed, and among them Spartacus, fighting 
 bravely to the last, at the head of his desperate 
 forces. It was the remainder of this wretched 
 band, that Pompey happened to fall in with in 
 his passage across the Alps homeward, and as 
 he expressed it to the senate, by destroying them, 
 plucked up the war by the very roots. Thus 
 ended all the civil wars which were excited by 
 the ambition of Marius and Sylla, a long and
 
 358 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 dismal periocl, in which the reader can side with 
 neither party, as both were equally cruel, base, 
 self-interested, and venal. The republic had been 
 long fated to destruction, its former justice and 
 moderation was gone, and it was immaterial who 
 was to have the overwhelming of a corrupted 
 empire. 
 
 Yet still, during this interval which we have 
 been describing, all the arts of peace had been 
 cultivated, and had risen almost to the summit 
 of perfection. Plautus and Terence, it is true, 
 had flourished some time before; but Lucretius, 
 the boast of his age, who exceeds as much in 
 poetry as he falls short in philosophy, adorned 
 those ill-fated times, and charmed with the har- 
 mony of his versification. Learning, however, 
 was chiefly cultivated among the great ; for lux- 
 ury had not as yet sufficiently descended to the 
 meaner ranks, to make them relish the elegant 
 gratifications of life; for mankind must in some 
 measure be satiated with the pleasures of sense, 
 before they can think of making new inlets into 
 the pleasures of imagination.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 359 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 From the perpetual Dictatorship of Sylla to the 
 Triumvirate of Casar, Pompey, and Crassus. 
 
 All factions being now apparently quell- u. c. 
 ed in the empire, it was hoped that peace 680. 
 would be restored, and that the commonwealth 
 would have time to respire from the calamities 
 it had sustained during the civil war. But the 
 spirit of ambition had entered into the state, and 
 the leading men now saw the possibility of ob- 
 taining sovereign power by Sylla's example. Of 
 those chiefly now in favour with the senate and 
 the people, Pompey and Crassus were foremost, 
 both conquerors, both desirous of power, and 
 both aiming at it by extending their popularity. 
 We have already seen Pompey, while very young, 
 performing one of the most active parts in the 
 conduct of the empire : we have seen him join- 
 ing with, and conquering in the cause of Sylla, 
 soon after sent into Africa, and the first of the 
 equestrian order who had a triumph; after 
 that, siding against Lepidus, and then conquer- 
 ing the army which had been in Spain com- 
 manded by Sertorius; to crown all, honoured 
 with the consulship in his absence, and that be- 
 fore the consular age. These successes had 
 greatly inflamed his pride, and extended his de-
 
 5pQ TffE ijigTojiy OF Tji^ ' ; 
 
 sire of glory. Crassus, on the other hand, was 
 equally desirous of obtaining popularity; but 
 being wholly unequal to his rival in military 
 fame, took another road to come at it : this was 
 by amassing riches, which he gathered from the 
 calamities of his country, only to involve it in 
 new distresses.- He was used to say, that no man 
 should be reckoned wealthy, who was not able 
 to maintain an army ; and in fact the number of 
 his slaves was equal to a large one. He had, 
 besides, the character of a good speaker in the 
 senate J and by his easy and familiar address, 
 and a readiness to assist all who wanted either 
 his protection or his money, he acquired great 
 authority in public affairs. Besides the rival- 
 ship of power between these two great men, 
 Crassus had another cause of resentment, which 
 was, Pompey's assuming to himself the glory of 
 terminating the Servile war, for which the other 
 had actually received the honour of a triumph 
 by the senate's command. Both, therefore, se- 
 cretly wished to undermine each other, neither 
 with views of ridding his country of the over- 
 grown power of an aspiring citizen, but each 
 with a desire of establishing his own. 
 
 The first opportunity that was afforded of 
 discovering their mutual jealousy, was upon the 
 disbanding their troops, with which they had 
 conquered. Neither chose to begin,, so that the 
 most fatal consequences threatened from their 
 dissension ; but at length, Crassus stifling his 
 resentment, laid down his command^ an(J the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 36l 
 
 Other followed his example immediately after. 
 The next trial between them was, who should 
 be foremost in obtaining the favour of the peo- 
 ple; Crassus entertained the populace at a, 
 thousand different tables, distributed corn to the 
 families of the poor, and fed the greatest part of 
 the citizens for near three months. Pompey, on 
 the other hand, laboured to abrogate the laws 
 made against the people's authority by Sylla; 
 he restored the power of judging to the knights, 
 which had been formerly granted them by Grac- 
 chus, and gave back to the tribunes of the peo- 
 ple all their former privileges. It was thus that 
 each gave his private aims a public appearance; 
 so that what was in reality ambition in both, 
 took with one the name of liberality, with the 
 other that of freedom. 
 
 However, the arts of Pompey seemed upon 
 this occasion to give him the superiority. The 
 tribunes, who were restored to all their former 
 dignities, thought they could never sufficiently 
 recompence their benefactor: they only waited 
 for an opportunity of gratifying his highest am- 
 bition; and this soon offered. A number of pi- 
 rates, formerly employed by Mithridates, had by 
 the lopg continuance of their success in plun- 
 dering all they met, amassed great wealth,, and 
 got together many thousand men of several na- 
 tions. They made choice of Cilicia, for their 
 principal place of resort ; and not content with 
 robbing by sea, ventured even, upon conquests 
 b V land. Italy itself vyas not fiiee from their in-
 
 36'2 THE HISTORY OF THE ' 
 
 vasions, where they often landed, and carried 
 away whatever they met with in their hasty in- 
 cursions. It was now, therefore, resolved at 
 Rome to punish their insolence, by sending out 
 a fleet that was capable of utterly destroying 
 their power. For this, Gabinius the tribune 
 preferred a law, that Pompey should be created 
 admiral, with absolute authority against the pi- 
 rates for three years : that his power should ex- 
 tend over the whole Mediterranean sea and its 
 coasts, to a certain distance on land: that he 
 should raise as many soldiers and mariners as 
 he should think expedient ; and that he should 
 have from the public treasury whatever sums 
 of money he should think necessary for carrying 
 on the war. This law, which the senate vainly 
 attempted to oppose, gave Pompey a degree of 
 power which he might have easily converted to 
 the detriment of his country ; but nothing dan- 
 gerous was to be feared from a man whose ac- 
 tions always testified more of vanity than am- 
 bition. 
 
 Pompey being thus furnished with absolute 
 power over the fleet, distributed his lieutenants 
 through the several bays and harbours of the 
 Mediterranean with so much judgment, that he 
 soon forced the enemy from their ports. In the 
 mean time, he himself, at the head of the larg- 
 est squadron of his shipping, sailed up and 
 down, visiting and instructing such as he sent 
 upon duty. By these means, in less than forty 
 days, he obliged the enemy to take refuge in
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 363 
 
 Cilicia, the only retreat that was left them. He 
 soon followed them thither, with sixty of his best 
 ships; and though they had prepared to give 
 him battle, yet they, upon sight of his fleet, and 
 struck with the terror of his name, submitted 
 to his mercy. As their number amounted to 
 above twenty thousand men, he was unwilling 
 to destroy them; and yet to permit their return- 
 ing to their ancient habitations, was not safe. 
 He therefore removed them to places farther di- 
 stant from the sea, where he gave them lands, 
 and thus added new subjects and dominions to 
 the empire of Rome. 
 
 This expedition having added greatly to 
 Pompey's reputation, the tribunes now hoped 
 it would be easier to advance their favourite 
 still higher; wherefore Manlius, one of the 
 number, preferred a law, that all the armies of 
 the empire, with the government of all Asia, 
 together with the management of the war 
 against Mithridates and Tigranes, should be 
 committed to him alone. A power so great 
 and unlimited, awakened all the jealousy of the 
 senate; this they considered as nothing less 
 than proclaiming him sovereign of the whole 
 empire. This was giving one, already master 
 of the whole fleet, an unlimited power by land, 
 and even seemed to tempt him to enslave his 
 country. The weight of these reasons, and still 
 more the authority of the senate, were about to 
 preponderate, and the tribunes seemed hesitat- 
 ing, whether they should not withdraw their
 
 364 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 motion ; when Marcus Tullius Cicero rose up to 
 second the law, and to pay his tribute of elo- 
 quence to the virtues of Pompey. It was the 
 first time that this orator had ever addressed the 
 assembly of the people; but- it was impossible 
 but that eloquence must have been irresistible 
 then, which to this day continues to charm and 
 improve posterity. The law passed with little 
 opposition, the decree was confirmed by all 
 the tribes of the people, and Pompey was thus 
 peaceably invested with as great powder as Sylla 
 had forced himself into through infinite diffi- 
 culties. 
 
 Pompey being thus appointed to the com- 
 mand of the war against Mithridates, imme- 
 diately departed for Asia, having made the 
 proper preparations towards forwarding the 
 campaign.. The war against this monarch 
 was, one of the most important that had been 
 Uithjsrto undertakea by the Romans. We do 
 not, on this occasion, read of princes already 
 overcome by luxury and pride, or trembling at 
 the splendour of the Roman name ; but of a 
 mighty king, undaunted in every stage of his 
 fortune, and, like a lion, gaining new courage 
 from every wound. His dominions were in fact 
 well situated for supporting a war against an in- 
 vadi*!^ enemy. They bordered on the inacce*- 
 &ible mountains of Mount Caucasus, whose sa- 
 vage inihabitants he could bring into the field; 
 they extended thence along the sea of Pontus^ 
 whiclx he covered with iiis ships: besides, he
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROMi:. SG3 
 
 was rich, ancf ever purchasing new armies 
 among the Scythians, a people of invincible 
 bravery. I have already mentioned the resist- 
 ance he made against Sylla, and the peace 
 which that general forced him to accept: this, 
 however, being the effects of compulsion, lasted 
 no longer than while there were forces strong 
 enough to compel him to its observance. Mu- 
 rena, whom Sylla had left behind, attempting to 
 reduce him to obedience, only met with dis- 
 grace, and at last a total overthrow. Some u- c. 
 time after, Mithridates having procured 68^ 
 the alliance of Tigranes, king of Armenia, in- 
 vaded the kingdom of Bithynia, which he had' 
 been formerly obliged to resign, and which had 
 been lately bequeathed to the Romans by Nico- 
 medes, the king of the country. To stop the 
 progress of these conquests, LucuUuSj an ex- 
 perienced general, had been sent from Rome; 
 and upon his arrival an engagement -ensued, in 
 which Mithridates lost his whole army, and 
 being obliged to escape by sea, was very near 
 falling into the hands of the enemy, had he not 
 been taken up by a pirate, who landed him safe 
 in his own dominions. No way intimidated by 
 the^ disasters, he soon raised another army, 
 and in the beginning gained some advantages 
 over the enemy. But Lucullus soon after cut 
 off all his internal resources, and forced him to 
 take shelter in the court of Tigranes, king of 
 Armenia. The Roman general followed him 
 thither also, and demanded him upj but Ti-
 
 S66 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 granes, though with no particular attachment 
 to the deposed king, refused to deliver him, be- 
 cause LucuUus had omitted giving him all his 
 titles. Pride, it seems, was the reigning passion 
 of this weak monarch ; he was more desirous 
 of receiving homage than of procuring power: 
 it was usual with him, to oblige the kings he 
 had conquered to attend him as slaves when 
 he appeared in public, having assumed, from 
 his successes over the weaker states around 
 him, the title of monarch of all monarchies. 
 This, it seems, was the title the Roman general 
 disdained granting him: the war now, there- 
 fore, changing its object, the generals of Ti- 
 granes were at first easily overcome; and though 
 he soon after engaged at the head of two hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand men, yet he met with 
 no better success. These victories promised a 
 speedy end to the war, which had now been 
 protracted for seven years; and though the con- 
 duct of it was once more devolved uponMithri- 
 dates, yet he being pressed as much as ever, 
 was obliged to take refuge in Lesser Armenia. 
 Thither LucuUus was preparing to follow him, 
 when accounts came, that Glabrio, who had 
 been consul for the last year, was appointed to 
 displace LucuUus in his command, and was ac- 
 tually arrived in Asia for that purpose. This 
 disgrace, it seems, was owing to the intrigues of 
 some of Lucullus's own soldiers, who, harassed 
 by perpetual fatigues, and debauched by fac- 
 tious officers, had privately sent their complaints
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 367 
 
 to the senate ; wherefore, upon Glabrio's arrival, 
 the whole army abandoned Lucullus, who could 
 not see, without indignation, their common ene- 
 my Mithridates resume all his power, and recover 
 the whole kingdom of Pontus, while Glabrio, 
 testifying no inclination to enter upon a trouble- 
 some command, continued an idle spectator of 
 his successes, and chose to stop short in Bithy- 
 nia. This mutinous spirit in the troops of Lu- 
 cullus, and the little inclination Glabrio seemed 
 to have of engaging, gave rise to that general 
 desire which prevailed, of appointing Pompey 
 to terminate the war, who shortly after went over 
 into Asia for that purpose. 
 
 The first duty which he thought incumbent 
 upon him on his arrival, was to propose terms of 
 accommodation to Mithridates; but this mon- 
 arch, having a little respired from his great and 
 numerous losses, determined to tempt his fortune 
 while it seemed propitious. He had found 
 means to collect a very considerable army from 
 the wrecks of his former power, and was resolved 
 to follow the Romans into Armenia, where he 
 expected to cut off their supplies : but being 
 disappointed in this, he was obliged to fly, hav- 
 ing first killed all such as were not able to ac- 
 company him in his retreat : however, he was 
 pursued with great diligence by Pompey, and 
 overtaken before he could have time to pass the 
 river Euphrates: though it was then night, be- 
 ing compelled to engage, it is said that the 
 moon shining from behind the Roman army.
 
 3^ " THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 lengthened their shadows so much, that th6 
 £trch6rs of Mithridates shot their arrows at these, 
 tnistaking the shade for the substance. Howev^er 
 that be, his Asiatic soldiers were unable to with- 
 stand the force of the European intantry ; he 
 did all that lay in the power of a great and expe- 
 rienced general, to lead them on to the charg6, 
 and to prevent their terrors ; but they could not 
 he brought to endure the shock, cowardice and 
 effeminacy having been then, as well as now, the 
 chariacteristics of an Eastern army. Being thus 
 again overthrown, with the loss of almost all his 
 forces, and finding himself hemmed in on every 
 side by the Romans, he made a desperate effort, 
 at the head of eight hundred horse, to break 
 through them, and thus effected his escape, 
 though with the loss of five hundred of his fol- 
 lowers in the attempt. He had long been ac- 
 quainted with distress, but his present situation 
 seemed more deplorable than ever: he continued 
 for several days sorrowfully wandering throiigh 
 the forests that covered the country, leading his 
 horse in his hand, arid subsisting on whatever 
 fruits he a,ccidentally found in his way : in this 
 forlorn situation he met with about three thou- 
 sairtd of his soldiers who had escaped from the ge- 
 neral carnage, and by their assistance he Vv'as 
 conducted to orte of the magazines, where life hacf 
 depositied those treasures that were intended to 
 support the war. He sent from thence, to Ti- 
 gr^nes for aid; but that monarch was too much 
 engaged in suppressing the rebellion of orie of
 
 COMMOXWEALTH OF ROME. 369 
 
 bis own sons at home, to be able to send any 
 succours abroad. Disappointed on that side, still 
 however he would not despair, but fled to Col- 
 chis, a state which had formerl}^ acknowledged 
 his power. Being pursued thither also by Pom- 
 pey, he took another dreadful journey, crossed 
 the Araxes, marched from danger to danger 
 through the country of the Lazi, and assembling 
 all the barbarians he met with in his way, 
 induced the Scythian princes to declare against 
 Rome. Steadfast in his enmity, he continued 
 his opposition, even though he found his own 
 family confederating against him. Although be- 
 trayed by his son Macharis, and though his life 
 was attempted by Pharnaces, yet he still aimed 
 at great designs, and even in the heart of Asia 
 projected the invasion of the Roman empire: 
 this he intended to e|Fect by marching ir\to Eu- 
 rope, and there being joined by the fierce na- 
 tions that inhabited Germany and Gaul, to 
 cross the Alps, into Italy, as Hannibal had 
 done before him : but his timid Asiatic soldiers 
 were ill disposed to second the great views of 
 their leader. Upon being apprised of his in- 
 tentions, a mutiny ensued, which vi^as promoted 
 by his sonPharnaces, who had been longdesirous 
 of gaining the favour of Pompey by parricide. 
 Mithridates being thus obliged to take refuge in 
 his palace, to escape the fury of the army, sent 
 to his son for leave to depart, offering him the 
 free possession of all that remained of his wretch- 
 ed fortunes, and his title to those dominions of 
 VOL. I. 2 b
 
 370 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 which he had been deprived by the Romans. 
 To this, the unnatural son made no direct reply, 
 conscious that he was offered only what could 
 not be taken away; but turning to the slave 
 that brought him the message, he bade him, 
 with a stern countenance, tell his father, that 
 death was all that now remained for him. Such 
 a horrid instance of filial impiety added new 
 poignance to the wretched monarch's affliction ; 
 he could not refrain from venting his impreca- 
 tions, and from wishing that such an unnatural 
 child might, one day, meet with similar ingrati- 
 tude from his own children. Upon this, coming 
 down from his own apartment, where he had 
 been for some time alone, he entered that parti- 
 cularly assigned to his wives, children, and do- 
 mestics, where he bid all those prepare for death 
 who did not choose to undergo the horrors of a 
 Roman captivity. They all readily consented 
 to die with their monarch, and cheerfully taking 
 the poison which he had in readiness, expired 
 before him. As for himself, having used his 
 body much to antidotes, the poison had but little 
 effect; whereupon he attempted to dispatch him- 
 self with his sword, but that also failing, a Gaul- 
 ish soldier, whose name was Bitaeus, performed 
 this friendly office. Thus died Mithridates, be- 
 trayed by his son, and forsaken by an array that 
 seemed terrified at the greatness of his enterpris- 
 es. His fortune was various, his courage always 
 the same: he had for twenty-five years opposed 
 Rome 5 and though he was often betrayed by his
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 371 
 
 captains, his children, and his wives, yet he con- 
 tinually found resources against his enemies, and 
 was formidable to the very last. 
 
 In the mean time, Pompey was diligently em- 
 ployed in pursuing his advantages over Tigranes, 
 who had not only to resist the Romans, but his 
 own three sons that had united in rebellion 
 against him. Two of these he had the fortune 
 to overthrow, and put to death ; but he was soon 
 after compelled by Pompey to surrender. His 
 remaining son, who had taken refuge in the 
 Roman camp, did all that lay in his power to 
 prevent a reconciliation ; but Pompey reprimand- 
 ing his obedience, treated the old king with 
 great humanity, and restored him the greatest 
 part of his former dominions, only depriving him 
 of his conquests, and fining him six thousand ta- 
 lents towards defraying the expences of the war. 
 His son continuing still averse to the treaty, and 
 threatening his father's life, was confined by the 
 general's command, in order to be reserved for 
 his triumph into Rome. Nothing now there- 
 fore being able to check the progress of Pompey's 
 arms, he marched onward, over the vast moun- 
 tains of Taurus, setting up and deposing kings 
 at pleasure. Darius the king of Media, and 
 Antiochus king of Syria, were compelled to sub- 
 mit to his clemency ; Phraates king of Parthia 
 was obliged to retire, and send to entreat a peace. 
 From thence extending his conquests over the 
 Thur^eans and Arabians, he reduced all Syria 
 and Pontus into Roman provinces. Then turn* 
 
 2 B 2
 
 372 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ing towards Judea, he summoned Aristobulus, 
 who had usurped the priesthood from his elder 
 brother Hyrcanus, to appear before him ; but 
 Aristobulns had fortified the temple of Jerusalem 
 against him, and refused to answer. This vene- 
 rable place, which was thus converted into a 
 garrison, being very strong from its situation, 
 held out for three months, but was at last taken, 
 and twelve thousand of its defenders slain. Pom- 
 pey entered this great sanctuary with a mixture 
 of resolution and fear; he showed an eager cu- 
 rosity to enter into the Holy of Holies ; there he 
 gazed for some time upon those things which it 
 was unlawful for any but the priests themselves 
 to behold. Notwithstanding, he showed so much 
 veneration for the place, that he forbore touch- 
 ing any of the vast treasures deposited there. 
 After restoring Hyrcanus to the priesthood and 
 government, he took Ari^tobulus with him, to 
 grace his triumph upon his return. This tri- 
 umph, which lasted two days, was the most 
 splendid that had ever entered tlve gates of Rome: 
 therein were exposed the names of fifteen con- 
 quered kingdoms, eight hundred cities taken, 
 twenty-nine repeopled, and a thousand castles 
 brought to acknowledge the empire of Rome. 
 Among the prisoners led in triumph, appeared 
 the son of Tigranes, Aristobulus king of Judea, 
 the sister of Mithridates, together with the hos- 
 tages of the Albanians, Iberians, and the king of 
 Comagena. The treasures that were brought 
 home, amounted to near four millions of our
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 373 
 
 money ; and the trophies and other splendours of 
 the procession wefe such, that the spectators 
 seemed lost in the magnificent profusion. All 
 these victories, however, rather served to heighten 
 the glory, than to increase the power of Rome; 
 they only made it a more glaring object of am- 
 bition, and exposed its liberties to greater danger. 
 Those liberties, indeed, seemed devoted to ruin on 
 every side; for even while Pompey was pursuing 
 his conquests abroad, Rome was at the verge of 
 ruin from a conspiracy at home. 
 
 This conspiracy was projected and carried on 
 by Sergius Catiline, a patrician by birth, who re- 
 solved to build his own power on the downfal 
 of his country. He was singularly formed both 
 by art and nature to conduct a conspiracy ; he 
 was possessed of courage equal to the most des- 
 perate attempts, and eloquence to give a colour 
 to his ambition : ruined in his fortunes, profli- 
 gate in his manners, and vigilant in pursuing 
 his aims; he was insatiable after wealth, only 
 with a view to lavish it in his guilty pleasures: in 
 short, as Cicero describes him, he was a com- 
 pound of opposite passions; intemperate to ex- 
 cess, yet patient of labour to a wonder ; severe 
 with the virtuous, debauched with the gay, so 
 that he had all the vicious for his friends by in- 
 clination, and he attached even some of the 
 good, by the specious show of pretended virtue. 
 However, his real character was at length very 
 well known at Rome : he had been accused of 
 debauching a vestal virgin; he was suspected of
 
 374 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 murdering his son to gratify a criminal passion 5 
 and it was notorious, that in the proscijption of 
 Sylla, he had killed his own brother, to make his 
 court to the tyrant. 
 
 Catiline having contracted many debts by the 
 looseness of such an ill-spent life, was resolved 
 to extricate himself from them by any means, 
 however unlawful : his first aim, therefore, was 
 at the consulship, in which he hoped to repair 
 his shattered fortune by the plunder of the pro- 
 vinces ; but in this he was frustrated. This dis- 
 grace so operated upon a mind naturally warm, 
 that he instantly entered into an association with 
 Piso and some others, of desperate fortunes like 
 himself, in which it was resolved to kill the 
 consuls that had been just chosen, with several 
 other senators, and to share the government 
 among themselves. These designs, however, 
 were discovered before they were ripe for action, 
 and the senate took care to obviate their effects. 
 Some time after, he again sued for the con- 
 sulship, and was again disappointed; the great 
 Cicero, whose character will be given hereafter, 
 being preferred before him. Enraged at these 
 repeated mortifications, he now breathed no- 
 thing but revenge : his design was, had he then 
 obtained the consulship, and with it the com- 
 mand of the armies of the empire, to have 
 seized upon the liberties of his country, and go- 
 verned alone. At length, impatience under his 
 disappointments would not permit him to wait 
 for the ripening of his schemes ; wherefore he
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 375 
 
 formed the mad resolution of usurping the em- 
 pire, though yet without means adequate to the 
 execution. 
 
 Many of those who were in the former con- 
 spiracy of Piso, still remained attached to his 
 interests ; these he assembled to about the num- 
 ber of thirty, where he informed them of his aims 
 and his hopes, settled a plan of operations, and 
 fixed a day for the execution. It was resolved 
 among them that a general insurrection should 
 be raised throughout Italy, the different parts of 
 which were assigned to the different leaders. 
 Rome was to be fired in several places at once ; 
 and Catiline, at the head of an army raised in 
 Etruria, was, in the general confusion, to possess 
 himself of the city, and massacre all the senators. 
 Lentulus, one of his profligate assistants, who 
 had been praetor or judge in the city, was to 
 preside in their general councils; Cethegus, a 
 man who sacrificed the possession of great pre- 
 sent power to the hope of gratifying his revenge 
 against Cicero, was to direct the massacre 
 through the city ; and Cassius was to conduct 
 those who fired it. But the vigilance of Cicero 
 being a chief obstacle to their designs, Catiline 
 was very desirous to see him taken off before he 
 left Rome ; upon which, two knights of the com- 
 pany undertook to kill him the next morning in 
 his bed, in an early visit on pretence of business. 
 The meeting, however, was no sooner over, than 
 Cicero had information of all that had passed in 
 it; for, by the intrigues of a woman, named
 
 ays THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Fulvia, he gained over Curius, her lover, and one 
 of the conspirators, to send him a punctual 
 account of all their deliberations. Having taken 
 proper precaution to guard hinnself against the 
 designs of his morning visitors, who were punc- 
 tual to the appointment, he next took care to 
 provide for the defence of the city; and assem- 
 bling the senate, consulted what was best to be 
 done in this time of danger. The first step 
 taken, was to offer considerable rewards for far- 
 ther discoveries, and then to prepare for the de- 
 fence of the state. Catiline, to show how well he 
 could dissemble or justify any crime, went boldly 
 to the senate, declaring his innocence, and offer- 
 ing to give any security for his behaviour. These 
 professions, urged with an apparent humility, 
 gained over many of the Roman senators ; but 
 Cicero, incensed at his effrontery, instead of pur- 
 suing the business of the day, rose up, and address- 
 ing himself to Catiline, broke out into a most 
 severe invective against him. The speech is still 
 remaining, in which, with all the fire of incensed 
 eloquence, he lays open the whole course of his 
 crimes, and the particulars of his present im- 
 peachment. When Cicero was seated, Catiline 
 rose in his turn, and with well-prepared dissimu- 
 lation, and a dejected countenance, besought the 
 senate not over rashly to credit vain reports con- 
 cerning him, nor believe that a person of his 
 rank, whose ancestors and whose services de- 
 manded rather fame than censure, could be guilty 
 of such vile imputations. While he was con-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 577 
 
 tinuing his defence, and beginning to introduce 
 some reflections against the consul, the chief of 
 which was the obscurity of his original, the se- 
 nate refused to hear him ; whereupon he declared 
 aloud, that since he was denied a vindication of 
 himself, and driven headlong by his enemies, he 
 would extinguish the flame which was raised 
 about him in universal ruin: thus saying, he 
 rushed out of the assembly, threatening destruc- 
 tion to all his opposers. As soon as he was 
 returned to his house, and began to reflect on 
 what had passed, he perceived it vain to dissem- 
 ble any longer; wherefore, resolving to enter at 
 once into action, before the commonwealth was 
 prepared to oppose him, after a short conference 
 with Lentulusand Cethegus, heleft Rome by night 
 wnth a small retinue, to make the best of his way 
 towards Etruria, where Manlius, one of the con- 
 spirators, was raising an army to support him. 
 
 In the mean time, Cicero took proper pre- 
 cautions to secure all those of the conspiracy 
 who remained in Rome, and induced the people 
 ^by the power of his eloquence to second his 
 designs. Lentulus, Cethegus, Cassius, and seve- 
 ral others, were put in confinement; and it was 
 propounded to the senate, what course should 
 be taken with the prisoners. The principal evi- 
 dences against them were the ambassadors of the 
 Allobroges, a fierce people inhabiting the coun- 
 tries now called Dauphiny and Savoy; who de- 
 posed, that they had been applied to, to furnish 
 a body of horse whenever the war should begin.
 
 578 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 but that being apprehensive of the danger, they 
 had dechned the proposal 5 at the same time pro*- 
 ducing the letters of Lentulus to them for that 
 purpose, marked with his own seal. Upon this, 
 a great debate arose in the house concerning 
 the punishment of the prisoners, a deliberation 
 of great delicacy and importance. Capital pu- 
 nishments were rare and even odious in Rome ; 
 while, on the other hand, the crimes of which 
 they were convicted required a quick and exem- 
 plary punishment. Silanus, the ensuing year's 
 consul, was of opinion, that they should all be 
 put to death ; to this, all who spoke after him 
 readily assented, till it came to Julius Caesar's 
 turn to deliver his opinion. This extraordinary 
 man, who was chosen praetor for the ensuing 
 year, had from the very beginning of his life 
 marked out a way to universal empire, and 
 now thought that a show of clemency upon this 
 occasion would conciliate the favour of the peo- 
 ple. It is supposed also by some, that he secretly 
 favoured the conspiracy, and only waited for its 
 first fortunes to put himself at its head. He 
 therefore observed, in an elegant and elaborate 
 speech (for of all the orators in the common- 
 wealth Cicero alone excelled him), that those 
 who opined for death, were on the merciful 
 side; since death was but the relief of the miser- 
 able, and left no sense of good or ill beyond it. 
 The heinousness of the present crime, he said, 
 might justify any severity, but the example was 
 dangerous in a free state, where power sometimes
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 379 
 
 happpned to fall into bad hands. Though no 
 danger could be apprehended from such a con- 
 sul as Cicero, yet, in other times, and under 
 other consuls, none could tell how far justice 
 might stop short of cruelty : his opinion there- 
 fore was, that the conspirators should be sen^ 
 tenced to perpetual confinement. His speech, 
 delivered with all the arts of a complete orator, 
 seemed to make great impression on the whole 
 assembly: Silanus himself began to excuse and 
 mitigate the severity of his former sentence, and 
 even the friends of the consul were almost con- 
 vinced ; when Porcius Catoat last stood up to op- 
 pose it. No two characters could be more op- 
 posite than his to that of the former speaker. 
 Caesar was merciful, gentle, and insinuating ; 
 Cato, severe, forceful, and overbearing: Caesar 
 loved his country, in hopes one day to govern it; 
 Cato loved it more than other countries, only 
 because he thought it more free : the one scru- 
 pled no means, however illicit, to attain his ends; 
 the other laboured but to one end by one way, 
 the most exalted justice conducting him to the 
 most inflexible virtue. In fact, the opinions of 
 the Greek philosophers began to give a bent to 
 the dispositions of the great men of the time ; so 
 that Caesar was a follower of Epicurus, and Cato 
 was a rigid Stoic. He began, therefore, by de- 
 scribing Cicero as he really was, a man dignified 
 with almost every virtue conducive to his own 
 happiness, together with all the talents that 
 could improve happiness in others. He pro-
 
 380 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ceeded by wondering how any debate could 
 arise about punishing men who had begun an 
 actual war upon their country: that he had 
 never pardoned in himself the very wanderings 
 of his heart, and could not easily forgive the 
 most flagitious actions in others : that they were 
 not deliberating on the fate of the prisoners only, 
 but on that of Catiline's whole army, which 
 would be animated or dejected, in proportion to 
 the vigour of their decrees j wherefore his opinion 
 was, since the criminals had been convicted both 
 by testimony and their own confession, that they 
 should suffer death, according to the custom 
 of their ancestors in circumstances of the like 
 nature. His speech was seconded by another, 
 still more forceful, from Cicero ; and these car- 
 ried such conviction, that they put an end to 
 the debate. The vote for the death of the con- 
 spirators was no sooner passed j than Cicero 
 resolved to put it in execution, lest the night, 
 which was coming on, should produce any new 
 disturbance. Lentulus, Cethegus, and the rest, 
 were therefore taken from their respective sure- 
 ties, and conducted by the chief magistrates, 
 who delivered them over to the executioners, 
 who presently strangled them in prison. 
 
 In the mean time, Catiline had raised an army 
 of twelve thousand men, of which a fourth part 
 only was completely armed, the rest being fur- 
 nished with what chance afforded, darts, lances, 
 and clubs. He refused, at first, to enlist slaves, 
 who flocked to him in great numbers, trusting to
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 381 
 
 the proper strength of the conspiracy; but upon 
 the approach of the consul who was sent against 
 him, and the arrival of the news that his confe- 
 derates were put to death in Ronae, the face of 
 his affairs was entirely altered. His first attempt, 
 therefore, was by long marches to make his 
 escape over the Apennines into Gaul ; but in this 
 his hopes were disappointed, all the passes being 
 strictly guarded by an army under Metcllus su- 
 perior to his own. Being thus hemmed in on 
 every side, and seeing all things desperate, with 
 nothing left him but either to die or conquer, he 
 resolved to make one vigorous effort against that 
 army which pursued him. Antonius the consul 
 being himself sick, the command devolved upon 
 his lieutenant, Petreius; who, after a fierce and 
 bloody action, in which he had lost a consider- 
 able part of the best troops, destroyed Catiline 
 and his whole army, which fought desperately to 
 the last man : they all fell in the very ranks in 
 which they stood when alive; and, as if inspired 
 with the spirit of their leader, fought not so much 
 to conquer, as to sell a bloody victory, and to 
 mingle public calamity with their private ruin. 
 The commonwealth being thus freed from their 
 apprehensions of danger, unanimously concurred 
 in their applauses of Cicero, whose councils had 
 been the chief means of removing them. Public 
 thanks were decreed him by the senate; and at 
 the instance of Cato, he was styled the Father of 
 his country, the people, with loud acclamations, 
 confirming the justice of the decree.
 
 382 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 * The extinction of this conspiracy seemed only 
 to leave an open theatre for the ambition of the 
 great men of the state to display itself in. Pom- 
 pey was now returned in triumph from conquer- 
 ing the East, as he had before been victorious in 
 Europe and Africa. Every eye was fixed upon 
 him, as being the most powerful man in the 
 state, and capable of governing it at his plea- 
 sure. His success in war had procured him 
 the surname of Great; and he was still more 
 pleased with the title, than the consciousness of 
 deserving it. This was the post his ambition 
 aimed at; he seemed more desirous of being the 
 leader than the ruler of his country, of being 
 applauded than obeyed. He had it in his power 
 often to make himself master of the state by 
 force; but he either declined the fatigue of it, 
 or lived in perpetual expectation of receiving as 
 a gift, what he did not choose to extort by vio- 
 lence. His parts were specious, rather than pe- 
 netrating; and his chief instrument in governing 
 was dissimulation: but being a better soldier 
 than statesman, he was adored abroad, and 
 gained in the camp that homage which was 
 denied him at home. 
 
 The first thing he did upon his return, was 
 to direct the election of both the consuls, by 
 whose help he hoped he should readily obtain 
 the ratification of all that he had disposed of in 
 Asia, together with a distribution of lands to 
 his soldiers of part of the countries they had 
 conquered. However, he was disappointed in
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 383 
 
 both these expectations; the senate, who began 
 to see and dread his power, were desirous of be- 
 sieging it by every opposition. The two consuls 
 turned against him as well as the rest, and were 
 seconded by all those who were not the professed 
 instruments of his party. The tribune Flavins, 
 who was the promoter of the law, impatient of 
 the delay, and animated by Pompey's power, 
 had the hardiness to commit Metellus the con- 
 sul to prison; and when all the senate followed, 
 and resolved to go to prison with him, the tri- 
 bune put his chair against the door to keep them 
 out. This violence, however, gave such offence 
 to the people, that Pompey found it adviseable to 
 draw off the tribune and release the consul. 
 From this opposition in the senate, he began to 
 find, that his own interest alone would not be 
 sufficient to rule the commonwealth, without 
 taking in some of the most powerful men of the 
 state, not as partners to divide his power, but as 
 instruments to assist it. 
 
 Crassus, as we have already observed, was 
 the richest man in Rome, and next him pos- 
 sessed of the greatest authority : his party in the 
 senate v;as even stronger than that of Pompey 
 his rival, and the envy raised against him was 
 less. He and Pompey had been long disunited 
 hy an opposition of interests and of characters : 
 however, it was from a continuance of their 
 mutual jealousies, that the state was in some 
 measure to expect its future safety. It was in 
 this situation of things that Julius Caesar, wh©
 
 381 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had lately gone praetor into Spain, and had re- 
 turned with great riches and glory, resolved to 
 convert their mutual jealousy to his own ad- 
 vantage. This celebrated man was nephew to 
 Marius by the female line, and descended from 
 one of the most illustrious families in Rome ; 
 he had already mounted by the regular grada- 
 tions of office, having been quasstor, agdile, and 
 grand pontiff, and prEetor in Spain. Being de- 
 scended from popular ancestors, he warmly es- 
 poused the side of the people ; and shortly after 
 the death of Sylla, procured those whom he 
 had banished to be recalled. He had all along 
 declared for the populace against the senate, and 
 b}^ this became their most favourite magistrate. 
 He had received proper intelligence, during his 
 administration in Spain, of what was going for- 
 ward, and resolved to return, to improve oc- 
 currences in his favour. His services in Spain 
 had deserved a triumph, and his ambition as- 
 pired at the consulship. However, it was con- 
 trary to law lor him to have both ; for to obtain 
 the consulship he must come into the city, and 
 by entering the city he was disqualified for a 
 triumph. In this dilemma, he preferred solid 
 power to empty parade, and determined to stand 
 for the consulship at the same time ; resolving 
 to attach the most powerful men in the state to 
 him, by effecting their reconciliation. He ac- 
 cordingly began first by offering his services to 
 Pompey, promising him his aid in having all his 
 acts passed, notwithstanding the senate's opposi-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 385 
 
 tion. Pompey, pleased at the acquisition of a 
 person of so much merit, readily granted him his 
 confidence and protection. He next applied to 
 Crassus, who, from former connections was dis- 
 posed to become still more nearly his friend : at 
 length, finding neither averse to an union of in- 
 terests, he took an opportunity of bringing them 
 together j and, remonstrating to them on the ad- 
 vantage as well as the necessity of a reconcilia- 
 tion, had art enough to persuade them to forget 
 former animosities. A combination was thus 
 formed, by which they agreed, that nothing 
 should be done in the commonwealth but what 
 received their mutual concurrence and appro- 
 bation. This was called the first Triumvirate, 
 by which we find the constitution weakened by 
 a new interest, that had not hitherto taken place 
 in the government, very different from that either 
 of the senate or the people, and yet dependent 
 on both. A power like this, however, as it de- 
 pended upon the nice conduct of different in- 
 terests, could not be of long continuance; and, 
 in fact, it was soon after swallowed up in the 
 military power, which took away even the shadow 
 of liberty. 
 
 VOL. I. 2 e
 
 386 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 i • 
 From the Beginning of the First Triumvirate to 
 
 the Death of Pompey, 
 
 u. c. The commonwealth might at this time be 
 694. considered, as made up of three different 
 bodies, each pursuing separate interests. The 
 triumvirate aiming at sovereign authority, were 
 desirous, by depressing the senate and alluring 
 the people, to extend their own influence. The 
 senate, equally apprehensive of the three great 
 men who controlled them, and of the people who 
 opposed them, formed a middle interest between 
 both, and, desirous of re-establishing the aristo- 
 cracy which had been set up by Sylla, gave their 
 struggles the name of freedom. The people, on 
 the other hand, were desirous of freedom in the 
 most extensive sense, and with a fatal blindness 
 only apprehensive of the invasion of it from the 
 side of the senate, gave all their influence to the 
 triumvirate, whose promises were great, and pre- 
 tences specious. 
 
 The first thing Gassar did, upon being taken 
 into the triumvirate, was to avail himself of the 
 interest of his confederates to obtain the consul- 
 ship. The senate had still some small influence 
 left ; and though they were obliged to choose 
 him, yet they gave for a colleague one Bibulus,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 387 
 
 who they supposed would be a check upon his 
 power : but the opposition was too strong for 
 even superiorabilities to resist itj so that Bibulus, 
 after a sHght attempt in favour of the senate, re- 
 mained inactive the succeeding part of the year. 
 Caesar, however, was by no means so; but began < 
 his schemes for empire by ingratiating himself 
 with the people. He preferred a law for divid- 
 ing certain lands in Campania, among such of 
 the poor citizens as had at least three children. 
 This proposal was just enough in itself, and 
 only criminal from the views of the proposer. 
 The senate being resolved to oppose him in all 
 his schemes, endeavoured to thwart him in this; 
 which only served to exasperate the people 
 still more against them. The multitude drove 
 them from the place of assembling with stones : 
 Cato and Bibulus, who were most active against 
 the law, were compelled to retire; and the rest 
 of the senate were oblisjed to take an oath to 
 confirm the observance of it. During this 
 struggle, Pompey and Crassus became the dupes 
 of their associate, driving the law forward with 
 all their activity and interest : the former pub- 
 licly declared, that if any would come (as he 
 was informed they would) with swords to op- 
 pose it, he would be the first to lift up his 
 shield in its defence. By this conduct he lost 
 all his former influence in the senate; while 
 Caesar only gained all the popularity of a law 
 which was of his own proposing. From that 
 time he acted entirely without the assistance of 
 
 2 c 2
 
 388 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 his colleague ; so that it was jestingly called the 
 consulship of Julius and Caesar, intimating that 
 all things were done only by him. 
 
 Having thus ingratiated himself with the peo- 
 ple, his next step was to procure the favour of 
 the knights, who made a very powerful body in 
 the state. They had for many years been the 
 financiers or farmers of the public revenue, and 
 by that means had acquired vast riches ; how- 
 ever, they now began to complain of their ina- 
 bility to pay the stipulated sums into the treasury. 
 CaBsar therefore procured a law to abate a third 
 part of their disbursements, notwithstanding the 
 opposition of the senate. In this manner, having 
 advanced his influence among the lower orders 
 of the state, he determined to attach Pompey 
 still more closely to him, by giving him his 
 daughter Julia in marriage, a woman with every 
 accomplishment that could tend to cement their 
 confederacy. 
 
 Having thus strengthened himself at home, he 
 next deliberated with his confederates about 
 sharing the foreign provinces of the empire be- 
 tween them. The partition was soon made; 
 Pompey chose Spain for his own part; for being 
 fatigued with conquest, and satiated with military 
 fame, he was willing to take his pleasures at 
 Rome; and there being no appearance of revolt 
 in that province, he knew it could easily be go- 
 verned by his lieutenant. Crassus chose Syria 
 for his part of the empire, which province, as it 
 had hitherto enriched the generals who had sub-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 389 
 
 dued it, would, he hoped, gratify him in this his 
 most favourite pursuit. To Caes^ir was left the 
 provinces of Gaul, composed of many fierce and 
 powerful nations, most of them unsubdued, and 
 the rest only professing a nominal subjection. 
 Wherefore, as it was rather appointing him to 
 conquer than command, this government was 
 granted him for five years, as if, by its continu- 
 ance, to compensate for its danger. Having 
 thus divided the empire between them, they each 
 of them prepared for their respective destinations; 
 but previous to Caesar's setting out, there was 
 still an obstacle that seemed to blast his aims, 
 and which he wished to have removed. This was 
 Tullius Cicero, whom we have already seen, by 
 his penetration and eloquence, defeating the 
 conspiracy of Catiline, and who still continued 
 a watchful guardian over the liberties of Rome. 
 This great orator and statesman, or, to give him 
 a higher appellation still, this excellent philoso- 
 pher, had, from a very humble original, raised 
 himself into the foremost rank of the state ; he 
 was endowed with all the wisdom and all the 
 virtues that could adorn a man. However, his 
 wisdom, by directing his views over too wide a 
 sphere, often overlooked those advantages which 
 are clearly discerned by short-sighted cunning ; 
 and his virtues, by being applauded by others, 
 and receiving his own conscious approbation, 
 inclined him to vanity. He seemed, in his ge- 
 neral conduct, guilty of a fault too common with 
 men of great abilities, a desire of uniting in him- 
 self incompatible qualities, which gave an air of
 
 390 THE HISTORY OF THP^ 
 
 ridicule to bis greatest actions. Thus, while he 
 aimed at being the first orator in the state, he 
 was eager also to be thought the best jester ; 
 while be taught men to contemn vanity, he was 
 seen earnestly intriguing for the honour of a 
 triumph, which, however, he bad done nothing 
 to merit. While no man saw the corruptions of 
 the times more clearly than he, yet he had hopes 
 of governing so corrupt a commonwealth without 
 fraud. Thus, though he saw through every per- 
 son he conversed with, yet he suffered himself to 
 be the dupe of many, rather than recede from the 
 rectitude of his aims. It was no wonder, there- 
 fore, that Cagsar was desirous of expelling such 
 a character from the republic, which was so un- 
 like his own. To effect this, he resolved to take 
 into his party Publius Clodius, a man of patri- 
 cian birth, dissolute manners, great popularity, 
 and an inveterate enemy of Cicero. Besides an 
 opposition of character, a principal cause of their 
 enmity was, Cicero's having formerly appeared 
 against him upon his trial before the people, for 
 an offence against the matrons of Rome, whose 
 mysteries he had intruded upon, dressed in wo- 
 men's clothes. He was at this time a tribune of 
 the people, although he had been obliged to get 
 himself adopted by a plebeian, before he could 
 obtain that office. The hopes of revenging him- 
 self upon Cicero in some measure incited him 
 to stand for it ; and the concurrence of Cassarand 
 Pompey with his pretensions soon assured him 
 of success. He therefore publicly began to ac- 
 cuse Cicero, for having put the late conspirators
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 391 
 
 to death, who, being citizens, ought to have been 
 adjudged by the people. Cicero, terrified at this 
 accusation, did all that lay in his power to oppose 
 it. He applied to Caesar to take him as his lieu- 
 tenant into Gaul; but Clodius had art enough to 
 allure him from that design, by pretending, that 
 his resentment was rather a matter of form than 
 of revenge. Pompey, too, contributed to put 
 him off his guard by a promise of protection; 
 so that the cunning of these men of moderate 
 abilities was more than a match for the wisdom 
 of the philosopher. Clodius having first caused 
 a law to be enacted, importing that any who 
 had condemned a Roman citizen unheard, should 
 himself be banished, soon after impeached Cicero 
 upon it. It was in vain that this great man went 
 up and down the city, soliciting his cause in the 
 habit of a suppliant, and attended by many of 
 the first young noblemen whom he had taught 
 the rules of eloquence: those powers of speaking 
 which had been so often successful in defending 
 the cause of others, totally seemed to forsake him 
 in his own ; he was banished by the votes of the 
 people, four hundred miles from Italy ; his houses 
 were ordered to be demolished, and his goods set 
 up to sale. None now remained that could defend 
 the part of the senate but Cato; and he was short- 
 ly after sent into Cyprus, under pretence of doing 
 him a favour, but in reality in order to leave an 
 open theatre for the triumvirate to act in. Cae- 
 sar, during these intrigues, pretended to be an 
 unconcerned spectator, and to be wholly occu- 
 pied in his preparations for going into Gaul.
 
 392 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 He, in fact, left nothing undone, that might ad-^ 
 vance the speed, or increase the strength of this 
 expedition : wherefore, leaving Ponipey to guard 
 their mutual interests at home, he marched into 
 his province at the head of four legions, that were 
 granted him by the senate,* and two more that 
 were lent him by his new associate in the empire. 
 It would be impossible, in the narrow compass 
 which I have assigned myself, to enumerate all 
 the battles Caesar fought, and the states he sub- 
 dued, in his expedition into Gaul and Britain, 
 which continued eight years. He has himself 
 given a detail of them in his Commentaries, a 
 work which does as much honour to his abilities 
 as a writer, as his conduct did to his talents as a 
 general. To abridge such a work, is but to de- 
 stroy it ; to turn it into a dry catalogue of names 
 that cease to interest, and of battles that would 
 appear to be all the same : it will be sufficient 
 just to mention those victories which a great and 
 experienced general, at the head of a disciplined 
 army, gained over the barbarous and tumultuary, 
 though numerous forces, that were led to oppose 
 him. The Helvetians were the first that were 
 brought into subjection, with the loss of near 
 two hundred thousand men ; those who remained 
 after the carnage were sent by Cassar in safety to 
 their forests, from whence they had issued. The 
 Germans, with Ariovistus at their head, were 
 next cut off, to the number of eighty thousand, 
 their monarch himself narrowly escaping in a 
 little boat across the Rhine. The Belgae were 
 cut off with such great slaughter, that marshes
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 393 
 
 and deep rivers were rendered passable from the 
 heaps of slain. The Nervians, who were the 
 most warlike of those barbarous nations, made 
 head for a short time, and fell upon the Romans 
 with such fury, that their army was in danger 
 of being utterly routed ; but Caesar himsetf has- 
 tily catching up a buckler, rushed through his 
 army into the midst of the enemy, by which 
 means he so turned the fate of the day, that the 
 barbarians were all cut off to a man. The Cel- 
 tic Gauls, who were powerful at sea, were next 
 brought under subjection. After them, the Suevi, 
 the Menapii, and all the nations from the Medi- 
 terranean to the British sea. From thence, sti- 
 mulated by the desire of conquest, he crossed 
 over into Britain, upon pretence that the natives 
 had furnished his enemies with continual sup- 
 plies. Upon approaching the shores, he found 
 them covered with men to oppose his landing, 
 and his forces were in danger of being driven 
 back, till the standard-bearer of the tenth legion 
 boldly leaped ashore, and being well assisted 
 by Caesar, the natives were put to flight. The 
 Britons, being terrified at Caesar's power, sent to 
 desire a peace, which was granted them, and 
 some hostages delivered. A storm, however, 
 soon after destroying great part of his fleet, they 
 resolved to take advantage of the disaster, and 
 marched against him with a powerful army. 
 But what could a naked undisciplined army do 
 against forces that had been exercised under the 
 greatest generals, and hardened by the conquest
 
 394 THE HISTORY OF TH£ 
 
 of the greatest part of the world? Being over- 
 thrown, they were obliged once more to sue for 
 peace, which Cassar granted them, and then re- 
 turned to the continent. But his absence once 
 more inspired this people, naturally fond of liber- 
 ty, with a resolution to disclaimtheRoman power; 
 wherefore, he resolved upon a second expedition, 
 where, by repeated victories, he so intimidated 
 their general Cassibelanus, that he no longer at- 
 tempted to resist him in the plains, but keeping 
 in the forests, attempted to protract the war. 
 However, C^sar pursuing him closely, and cross- 
 ing the Thames with his army, so straitened him, 
 that he was obliged to submit to the conqueror's 
 conditions, who imposed an annual tribute, and 
 took hostages for the payment of it. Thus, in 
 less than nine years, he conquered, together with 
 Britain, all that country which extends from the 
 Mediterranean to the German sea. It is said, 
 that in these expeditions he took eight hundred 
 cities, subdued three hundred different states, 
 overcame three millions of men, one of which 
 fell on the field of battle, and one was made pri- 
 soners of war. These conquests, and his destruc- 
 tion of mankind, may, in the present advance- 
 ment of morals, be regarded with detestation; but 
 they were regarded as the height of human vir- 
 tue at the time they were achieved. In fact, 
 if we examine Caesar's great assiduity in provid- 
 ing for his army, his great skill in disposing them 
 for battle, and his an^azing intrepidity during the 
 engagement, we shall not find a greater general
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 395 
 
 in all antiquity. But in one thing he excelled 
 all, with incontestable superiority, namely, in his 
 humanity to the vanquished. This seemed a 
 virtue but little known to the times he lived in; 
 so that mankind were then more obliged to he- 
 roes, than they at present choose to confess; al- 
 most each of whom has introduced and given 
 sanction to some new virtues, which philosophers 
 might have speculatively applauded before, but 
 could never have influence to make popular with- 
 out such an example. 
 
 While Caesar was thus increasing his reputa- 
 tion and riches abroad, Pompey, who remained 
 all the time in Rome, steadily co-operated with 
 his ambition, and advanced his interests, while 
 he vainly supposed he was forwarding his own. 
 Upon the first news of his great exploits, he pro- 
 cured a decree of the senate for a solemn festival 
 of fifteen days, which was doing Cassar greater 
 honour than any general had received before 
 him. When Caesar, after remaining in Gaul 
 three years, passed over into Italy, to refresh 
 himself for a while from his fatigues, in order to 
 renew the next campaign with great vigour, 
 Pompey, together with Crassus, took a journey 
 from Rome to meet him : and there, when Cassar 
 pleaded the necessity of being continued in his 
 command, his associates resolved to endeavour 
 at the consulship for the next year, in order to 
 keep him in his province for five years longer. 
 This design was so displeasing to the senate, and 
 the dissensions so violent concerning it, that they
 
 395 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 went into mourning, as in a case of public cala- 
 mity. Cato did all that lay in his power to op- 
 pose their aims; declaring, upon every occasion, 
 that the liberty of Rome was in danger : he even 
 procured one Domitius to offer himself a candi- 
 date, against the interest of the whole triumvi- 
 rate. Pompey, however, knew how little the 
 indignation of the senate could avail against the 
 power he was already possessed of; wherefore he 
 sent a body of armed men against Domitius, as 
 he was going to offer himself at the election. 
 These killed the slave that preceded him, and 
 then dispersed the company; Cato being wound- 
 ed, and Domitius hardly escaping with life. By 
 this violence, Pompey becoming master of the 
 suffrages, he and Crassus were declared consuls; 
 and in consequence of this promotion, C«sar 
 was continued five years longer in Gaul ; Crassus 
 was appointed to Syria, where, as we have 
 said, he expected to reap a harvest rather of 
 wealth than of glory; and Pompey was fixed 
 in his government of Spain, which he governed 
 wholly by his lieutenants, pretending that he 
 could not leave Rome, because of the general 
 charge of provisions which was committed to 
 his care; an office procured him by Cicero, 
 who was lately recalled from banishment by his 
 influence, the popularity of Clodius having given 
 him some umbrage. 
 
 In this manner Pompey continued to dictate 
 to the senate, and to exercise his authority, ra- 
 ther than increase it. But he began at last to be
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 397 
 
 roused from his lethargy, by the rising reputa- 
 tion of Caesar. The fame of that great com- 
 mander's valour, riches, and humanity, began 
 secretly to give him pain, and to make him 
 suppose they began to eclipse his own ; for, as 
 being more recent, they were more talked of. 
 He feared nothing so much as an equal in 
 point of glory ; and yet by his own arts he had 
 raised Caesar's so high, that he was threatened 
 with a superior. He now therefore began, by a 
 change of the same arts, to do all that was in his 
 power to diminish Caesar's reputation, obliging 
 the magistrates not to publish any letters they 
 received from him, till he had diminished the 
 credit of them, by spreading disadvantageous 
 reports. While every thing thus portended a 
 rupture between these principal men, accident 
 contributed not a little to widen the separation, 
 by the death of Julia, Pompey's wife, who had 
 not a little contributed to improve the harmony 
 that subsisted between them. From this mo- 
 ment, Pompey resolved to pursue his own parti- 
 cular advancement, and to depress that of one 
 whom he found, though too late, to share an 
 equal degree of reputation with himself. 
 
 However, his efforts were now too late. Cae- 
 sar was in possession of a great share of po- 
 pularity, which it had been the study of his life 
 to promote : he was loved almost to adoration 
 by his army, whose attachment he had gained 
 by his humanity and great rewards: he seemed 
 to acquire immense riches, only to bestow them
 
 398 THE HISTORY OF THE ' 
 
 upon the bravest and most deserving of his 
 soldiers, particularly those who were worn out 
 in his service : he paid the debts of many of 
 his officers, and gave them every motive to 
 wean their love from the public, and to place 
 it on their commander. Nor were his atten- 
 tions fixed upon his soldiers alone, but extend- 
 ed to his partizans in the city ; he assisted these 
 by promoting them to offices, lavishing large 
 sums of money to bribe their elections j he pil- 
 laged the wealth of his provinces to spread it 
 among the citizens of Rome, and gave even his 
 rapine an air of generosity. 
 
 All this was frequently told Pompey; but he 
 at first wished it true, then pretended to disbe- 
 lieve it, and at last found that he had committed 
 a fatal oversight, but suffered that consideration 
 to prevail as late as possible. However, he at 
 length wished to resume that power which he 
 had formerly suffered others to share : and an 
 opportunity soon offered of obtaining his de- 
 sire. As all elections had for many years been 
 u.c. carried on by sedition and bribery, there 
 701. seemed about that time to be a total 
 cessation of authority, no magistrates having 
 been elected for the space of eight months. This 
 state of anarchy was heightened still more by 
 the death of Clodius, who was killed by Milo 
 in the country, as he was upon his return to 
 town. As Clodius had been always a favourite 
 of the people, his body was immediately brought 
 to Rome, and exposed publicly to view. No-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 3^9 
 
 thing more was requisite to kindle a tumult ; 
 the multitude ran furiously to Mile's house to 
 set it on fire, but being defended by his par- 
 tizans, Milo repulsed them with great slaughter. 
 Upon this, returning to the dead body, they 
 drew it to the senate-house, and there making a 
 pile of the seats of the magistrates, consumed 
 both the body and that stately building toge- 
 ther. After this, the mutineers dispersed them- 
 selves all over the city, where, under pretence 
 of searching for Milo's friends, they committed 
 the greatest outrages that unlicensed fury could 
 suggest. Thus every street was filled with mur- 
 ders and quarrels, while none could walk from 
 their own houses in safety. In this universal 
 tumult^ and distraction, all eyes were turned 
 upon Pompey, to restore tranquillity, and give 
 the sufferers redress. Many were for creating 
 him dictator; but Cato, unwilling to endanger 
 the state by intrusting the greatest power to the 
 most notorious ambition, prevailed, that instead 
 of being created dictator, he should be made 
 sole consul : which differed from the former 
 office but in this, that he was accountable for 
 raal-administration upon the resignation of 
 his employment. In consequence of this acces- 
 sion of power, a body of troops were allotted to 
 him, a thousand talents were granted to subsist 
 them, the government of Spain was continued 
 to him for four years longer, and Milo was ac- 
 cused of having killed Clodius, and condemiued 
 to banishment, even though Cicero himself un-
 
 400 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 dertook to defend him. It seems, the tribunal 
 from whence he harangued the populace was 
 surrounded by the consul's soldiers 3 so that he 
 was quite intimidated, and unable to proceed 
 with his usual impetuosity. Pompey, who had 
 hitherto acted alone, then took in Metellus for 
 his colleague, whose daughter Cornelia he had 
 lately married, a woman of great merit and 
 beauty, and by this new alliance he supposed 
 he had confirmed his former authority. 
 
 Cassar, who now began to be sensible of the 
 jealousies of Pompey, took occasion, from the 
 many honours which the latter had just received, 
 to solicit for the consulship in his turn, with 
 a prolongation of his government in Gaul, de- 
 sirous of trying whether Pompey would thwart 
 or promote his pretensions. In this, Pompey 
 seemed to be quite inactive : but at the same 
 time privately employed two of his creatures, 
 who alleged in the senate, that the laws did 
 not permit a person that was absent to offer 
 himself as a candidate for that high office. 
 Pompey 's view in this was, to allure Csesar 
 from his government, in order to stand for the 
 consulship in person. Ceesar, however, perceiv- 
 ing his artifice, chose to remain in his province, 
 convinced that while he headed such an army 
 as was now devoted to his interests, he could at 
 any time give laws as well as magistrates to the 
 state. 
 
 The senate, which were now devoted to Pom- 
 pey, because he had for some time attempted to
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 401 
 
 defend them from the encroachments of the 
 people, ordered the two legions which were in 
 Cassar's army, belonging to Pompey, home, as 
 it was pretended, to oppose the Parthians, but 
 in reality to diminish Caesar's power. Caesar 
 easily saw their motive; but as his plans were 
 not yet ready for execution, he sent them home, 
 in pursuance of the orders of the senate, having 
 previously attached the officers to him with be- 
 nefits, and the soldiers with a bounty. The 
 next step the senate took, was to recall Caesar 
 from his government, as his time was now very 
 near expiring. Every person perceived the dan- 
 ger the state was in, from the continuance of 
 his command over an army entirely devoted to 
 his interests, and become almost invincible by 
 long experience. It was the general sense there- 
 fore of the house, that Csesar should return ; 
 and some went so far, as to talk of bringing 
 him to an account for the large sums of money 
 he had extorted from the provinces of Gaul. 
 But Caesar was not without his friends in the 
 senate: among the rest, Curio, who had lately 
 been elected a tribune of the people, and had 
 been bribed to his interests, secretly favoured 
 his cause. Curio was a man of strong elo- 
 quence, great resolution, loaded with debts, and 
 deeply engaged to Caesar for extricating him 
 from a part of them : he, therefore, pretended 
 highly to approve the resolutions of the house, 
 and asserted, that he could never think liberty 
 secure, while such armies were in readiness to 
 
 VOL. I. 2 D
 
 402 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 destroy itV whenever their leaders should give 
 the word of command: but then, he thought 
 the chief security of the state depended upon 
 the fear which these armies, whether in Spain, 
 Gaul, or Italy, stood in of each other. It was 
 therefore his opinion, that Czesar should not 
 leave his army, till Pompey had set him the 
 example. This was a proposal which Pompey 
 had by no means been prepared for ; his friends 
 alleged, that his time was not yet expired ; but 
 this not satisfying the tribune, Pompey himself 
 observed, that he had taken up his offices at 
 the command of the senate, and that he was 
 ready to resign them whenever his employers 
 thought fit : that he knew Cagsar, with whose 
 friendship and alliance he had been made hap- 
 py, would not hesitate to do the same, when he 
 knew the senate had appointed him a successor. 
 Curio, who saw the art of Pompey, whose only 
 aim was to have a successor actually nominated, 
 replied, that in order to show the sincerity of 
 his professions, it was not enough to promise 
 to give up his government, but at that very 
 instant to perform a thing he had it so easily in 
 his power to do : he added, that both were 
 too powerful, and that it was for the interest 
 of the commonwealth that they should return 
 to their former privacy: he concluded with, 
 saying, that there was no other method left for 
 public security, but to order both to lay down 
 their commands, and to declare him an enemy 
 to his country who should disobey. Curio had
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 405 
 
 made this proposal with a certainty of its be- 
 ing rejected by Pompey, whom he knew to be 
 too well acquainted with the advantages of 
 command, and too confident of his own supe- 
 riority over Caesar, to begin the submission : in 
 fact, he judged very justly. Pompey was ren- 
 dered arrogant, not only by his long good for- 
 tune and his present honour, but also by ac- 
 counts brought him continually from Caesar's 
 army, importing that his soldiers had no esteem 
 for iiim, and that they would certainly forsake 
 him as soon as they had crossed the Alps; all 
 which falsehoods, though merely invented to 
 gain Pompey's favour, by suiting the account 
 to his inclinations, he readily gave credit to. 
 Nay, to such a pitch of self-security did he at 
 last make pretensions, that when Cicero asked 
 him what forces he had to repel Caesar, Pom- 
 pey replied, that if he only stamped with his 
 foot, an army would start up from the ground 
 to oppose him. Thus confidence at first, and 
 shame soon after to have been in the wrong, 
 operated so powerfully upon him, that he did 
 not prepare for his defence, lest he should be 
 obliged to acknowledge himself in danger. 
 
 Curio, having attained his aims in this parti- 
 cular, dismissed the senate, as he was empow- 
 ered to do by his office; but Marcellus, who 
 was consul, and a creature of Pompey's, con- 
 voked it immediately after, and then put it to 
 the vote whether Csesar should be continued in 
 his government. The whole assembly were 
 
 2 D 2
 
 404 THE HISTORY OF THE - / 
 
 immediately of opinion that he should be dis- 
 continued. Pie then demanded their pleasure 
 as to Pompey*s continuance in the government 
 he enjoyed. The majority declared that it was 
 proper to continue him. Curio then put a 
 third question, whether it would not be most 
 expedient to discontinue them both ; to which 
 three hundred and sixty of the senate assented, 
 and twenty-two only declared against it. Mar- 
 cellus being thus frustrated in his views of ob- 
 taining the sanction of the senate to continue 
 Pompey in his government, could not contain 
 his resentment, but rising in a rage, cried out, 
 " If you will have Caesar for your master, why 
 ** have him." Upon which, one of his own 
 party asserting, in order to intimidate the senate 
 till more, that Caesar was past the Alps, and 
 marching with his whole army directly towards 
 Rome, the consul, immediately quitting the 
 senate, went with his colleague forth from the 
 city, to a house where Pompey at that time re- 
 sided. He there presented him with a sword, 
 commanding him to march against Caesar, and 
 fight in defence of the commonwealth. Pompey 
 declared he was ready to obey j but with an air 
 of pretended moderation added, that it was only 
 in case more gentle expedients could not be 
 em pi eyed. 
 
 Caesar, who was instructed in all that passed 
 by his partizans at Rome, though he was still 
 in Gaul, was willing to give his aims all the ap- 
 pearance of justice. He therefore wrote ta
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 405 
 
 the senate several times, desiring to be conti- 
 nued in his government of Gaul, as Pompey 
 had been in that of Spain, or else that he should 
 be permitted to stand for the consulship, and his 
 absence dispensed with. He agreed to lay 
 down his employment when Pompey should do 
 the same. But the senate, who were devoted 
 to his rival, rejected all his propositions, blindly 
 confident of their own power, and relying on 
 the assurances of Pompey. Caesar, still unwill- 
 ing to come to an open rupture with the state, 
 at last was content to ask the government of 
 Illyria, with two legions ; but this also was re- 
 fused him : a fatal obstinacy had seized the 
 senate, who were willing to sacrifice all his 
 power, to increase that of their present favour- 
 ite j so that they attempted to repress his injus- 
 tice by still greater of their own. Wherefore 
 Caesar, now finding all hopes of an accommo- 
 dation fruitless, and conscious, if not of the 
 goodness of his cause, at least of the goodness 
 of his troops, began to draw them down towards 
 the confines of Italy, and passing the Alps with 
 his third legion, stopped at Ravenna, a city of 
 Cisalpine Gaul, from whence he once more 
 wrote a letter to the consuls, declaring that he 
 was ready to resign all command, in case Pom- 
 pey did so too. But he added, that if all power 
 was to be given to one only, he would endea- 
 ;Vour to prevent so unjust a distribution; and 
 declared that if they persisted, he would shortly 
 arrive in Rome to punish their injustice, and
 
 406 ' THE HISTORY OF THJE 
 
 the wrongs of his country. The menaces con- 
 tained in the last part of his letter exasperated 
 thewhole body of the senate against him. Mar- 
 cellus the consul, who, as we have said, was the 
 creature of Pompey, gave w^ay to his rage ; 
 while Lentulus his colleague, who, being of 
 wrecked fortune, could expect to lose nothing 
 by a civil war, openly declared, that after such 
 an insult further deliberation was needless, and 
 that there was now more occasion for arms than 
 for suffrages. It was then, after some oppo- 
 sition, decreed that Cassar should lay down his 
 government, and disband his forces within a 
 limited time ; and if he refused obedience, that 
 he should be declared an enemy to the com- 
 monwealth. They next gave orders to the con- 
 suls, that the commonwealth should receive no 
 damage, which was the form of investing them 
 with absolute authority in cases of immediate 
 danger. After this, they appointed Domitius, 
 a man of great courage and abilities, as Cfesar's 
 successor in the government of Gaul. Pompey 
 was ordered to put himself at the head of what 
 troops were in readiness, and all those who were 
 under the influence either of him or the senate, 
 prepared to take up arms at Rome. 
 
 In the mean time, they who had declared 
 themselves most strongly in Caesar's interest, 
 began to fear for themselves, from the absolute 
 power granted the consuls of disposing all things 
 at their pleasure, and of treating whom they 
 would as enemies to the state. But particularly
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 407 
 
 Curio, with the two tribunes Marcus Antonius 
 and Longinus, supposed they had reason to 
 be apprehensive. They accordingly fled, dis- 
 guised as slaves, to Caesar's camp, deploring 
 the injustice and tyranny of the senate, and 
 making a merit of their sufferings in his cause. 
 Caesar showed them in the habits which they 
 had thus assumed to his army, and seeming 
 touched with the strongest compassion at their 
 treatment, burst out into severe invectives 
 against the senate, alleging their tyranny over 
 the state, their cruelty to his friends, and their 
 flagrant ingratitude to himself for all his past 
 services. These, cried he, pointing to the tri- 
 bunes, who were in slaves' habits, these are the 
 rewards obtained by the faithful servants of 
 their country ; men whose persons are sacred by 
 their office, and whose characters have been 
 esteemed for their virtues, are driven from their 
 country, obliged for safety to appear as the 
 meanest of mankind, to find protection only in 
 a distant province of the empire, and all for 
 maintaining the rights of freedom, those rights 
 which even Sylla in all the rage of slaughter 
 durst not violate. All this he enforced with the 
 most passionate gestures, and accompanied his 
 words with his tears. The soldiers, as if in- 
 spired with one mind, cried out, that they were 
 prepared to follow him wherever he should lead, 
 and were ready to die or revenge his injuries. 
 An' universal acclamation rung through the 
 whole camp, every man prepared for a new ser-
 
 408 THE HISTORY OF THI 
 
 vice of danger, and forgetting the toils of ten 
 former campaigns, went to his tent to meditate 
 on future victory. 
 
 When the army was thus fit for his purpose, 
 Caesar, at night-fall, sat down to table, cheer- 
 fully conversing with his friends on subjects of 
 literature and philosophy, and apparently dis- 
 engaged from every ambitious concern ; how- 
 ever, after some time, rising up, he desired the 
 company to make themselves cheerful in his ab- 
 sence, and that he would be with them in a 
 moment: in the mean time, having ordered his 
 chariot to be prepared, he immediately set out, 
 attended by a few friends, for Arminium, a city 
 upon the confines of Italy, whither he had dis- 
 patched a part of his army the morning before. 
 This journey by night, which was very fatigu- 
 ing, he performed with great diligence, some- 
 times walking and sometimes on horseback, till 
 at the break of day he came up with his army, 
 which consisted of about five thousand men, 
 near the Rubicon, a little river which separates 
 Italy from Gaul, and which terminated the 
 limits of his command. The Romans had ever 
 been taught to consider this river as the sacred 
 boundary of their domestic empire j the senate 
 had long before made an edict, which is still to 
 b« seen engraven in the road near Rimini, by 
 which they solemnly devoted to the infernal 
 gods, and branded with sacrilege and parricide, 
 any person who should presume to pass the Ru- 
 bicon with an army, a legion, or even a single
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 40^ 
 
 cohort. CjEsar, therefore, when he advanced at 
 the head of his army to the side of the river, 
 stopped short upon the bank, as if impressed with 
 terror at the greatness of his enterprise. The 
 dangers he was to encounter, the slaughters that 
 were to ensue, the calamities of his native city, 
 all presented themselves to his imagination in 
 gloomy perspective, and struck him with re- 
 morse. He pondered for some time in fixed 
 melancholy, looking upon the river, and debat- 
 ing with himself whether he should venture in ; 
 " If I pass this river," says he to one of his 
 generals who stood by him, " what miseries shall 
 ** I bring upon my country I and if I now stop 
 " short, lam undone." Thus saying, and resum- 
 ing all his former alacrity, he plunged in, crying 
 out that the die was cast and all was now over; 
 his soldiers followed him with equal promptitude, 
 and quickly arriving at Arminium, made them- 
 selves masters of the place without any resist- 
 ance. 
 
 This unexpected enterprise excited the utmost 
 terrors in Rome, every one imagining that Caesar 
 was leading his army to lay the city in ruins. 
 At one time were to be seen the citizens flying 
 into the country for safety, and the inhabitants 
 of the country coming up to seek for shelter 
 in Rome. In this universal confusion, Pompey 
 felt all that repentance and self-condemnation 
 which must necessarily arise from the remem- 
 brance of having advanced his rival to his pre- 
 sent pitch of power: wherever he appeared many
 
 410 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of his former friends were ready to tax him 
 with his supineness, and sarcastically to reproach 
 his ill-grounded presumption. " Where is 
 " now,*' cried Favonius, a ridiculous senator of 
 his party, *'the army that is to rise at youp*. 
 " command ? let us see if it will appear by 
 « stamping." Cato reminded him of the many 
 warnings he had given him j which, however, 
 as he was continually boding nothing but cala- 
 mities, Pompey might very justly be excused 
 from attending to. But being at length wearied 
 with these reproaches, which were offered under 
 colour of advice, he did all that lay in his pow- 
 er to encourage and confirm his followers : he 
 told them that they should not want an army, for 
 that he would be their leader; he confessed in- 
 deed, that he had all along mistaken Caesar's 
 aims, judging of them only from what they ought 
 to be ; however, if his friends were still inspired 
 with the love of freedom, they might yet enjoy 
 it in whatever place their necessities should hap- 
 pen to conduct them. He let them know that 
 their affairs were in a very promising situation ; 
 that his two lieutenants were at the head of a 
 considerable army in Spain, composed of veteran 
 troops that had made the conquest of the East ; 
 besides these, there were infinite resources both 
 in Asia and Africa, together with the succours 
 they were sure to expect from all the kingdoms 
 that were in alliance with Rome. This speech 
 served in some measure to revive the hopes of 
 the confederacy. The greatest part of the senate.
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 411' 
 
 bis own private friends and dependents, toge- 
 ther with all those who expected to make their 
 fortunes in his cause, agreed to follow him. 
 Thus, being in no capacity of resisting Caesar 
 at Rome, he resolved to lead his forces to Capua, 
 where he had the two legions that served 
 under Caesar in Gaul. His parting from Rome 
 was not a little distressful to the spectators. 
 Ancient senators, respectable magistrates, and 
 many of the flower of the young nobility, 
 obliged thus to leave their native city defenceless 
 to the invader, raised an universal concern in 
 all ranks of people, who followed them some 
 way with outcries, tears, and wishes for their 
 success. 
 
 Caesar, in the mean time, after having vainly 
 attempted to bring Pompey to an accommoda- 
 tion, was resolved to pursue him into Capua 
 before he could have time to collect his forces. 
 However, at the very onset, he was in some 
 measure discouraged by the defection of Labi- 
 €nus, associate of all his former victories : this 
 general, either disgusted at his command, or 
 unwilling to desolate his native country, went 
 over to the other side; but Caesar, who was 
 not to be intimidated by the loss of one man, 
 whose abilities he himself was able to replace, 
 did not seem much to regard it; wherefore send- 
 ing all his money after him, he marched on to 
 take possession of the cities that lay between him 
 and his rival, not regarding Rome, which he 
 knew would fall of course to the conqueror. Cor-
 
 412^ THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 finium was the first city that attempted to stop 
 the rapidity of his march. It was defended by 
 Domitius, who had been appointed by the senate 
 to succeed him in Gaul, and was garrisoned by 
 twenty cohorts which were levied in the countries 
 adjacent: Caesar, however, quickly invested it ; 
 and though Domitius sent frequently to Pompey, 
 exhorting him to come and raise the siege, he 
 was at last obliged to endeavour to escape pri- 
 vately. His intentions happening to be divulged, 
 the garrison were resolved to consult their own 
 safety by delivering him up to the besiegers. 
 Caesar readily accepted their offers, but kept his 
 men from immediately entering into the town. 
 After some time, Lentulus the consul, who was 
 one of the besieged, came out to implore forgive- 
 ness for himself and the rest of his confederates, 
 putting Caesar in mind of their ancient friend- 
 ship, and acknowledging the many favours he 
 had received at his hands : to this Csesar, who 
 would not wait the conclusion of his speech, ge- 
 nerously replied, that he came into Italy not to 
 injure the liberties of Rome and its citizens, but 
 to restore them. This humane reply being 
 quickly carried into the city, the senators and the 
 knights, with their children and some officers of 
 the garrison, came out to claim the conqueror's 
 protection, who just glancing at their ingrati- 
 tude, gave them their liberty, with permission to 
 go wheresoever they should think proper. But 
 while he dismissed the leaders, he, upon this, as 
 upon all other occasions, took care to attach the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 413 
 
 common soldiers to bis own interest; sensible 
 that he might stand in need of an army, but that 
 while he lived, his army could nevei- stand in need 
 of a commander. 
 
 Pompey having intelligence of what passed 
 upon this occasion, immediately retreated to 
 Brundusium, where he resolved to stand a siege, 
 to delay the enemy until the forces of the em-' 
 pire should be united to oppose him. Caesar, as 
 he expected, soon arrived before the place; and 
 having accidentally taken one of Pompey's en- 
 gineers a prisoner, he gave him liberty, with or- 
 ders to persuade his general that it might be for 
 the interests of both, as well as to the advantage 
 of the empire, to have an interview ; but to this 
 overture he received no return. He next at- 
 tempted to block up the harbour, but in this 
 being frustrated by the diligence of Pompey, he 
 sent another proposal for having an interview, to 
 which it was answered, that no propositions of 
 that kind could be received in the absence of the 
 consuls. Thus seeing no hopes of concluding 
 their disagreements by treaty, he turned all his 
 thoughts towards carrying on the war, which 
 Pompey on his side resolved to prosecute with all 
 imaginable vigour. 
 
 His first aim in keeping Caesar some time em- 
 ployed before Brundusium succeeded to his 
 wish ; he at length therefore prepared, with all 
 imaginable caution, to abandon the town, and 
 transport his garrison orer toDyrrhachium, where 
 the consuls, who had been sent with a part of
 
 414 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the troops before him, were levying men for the 
 service of the empire. For this purpose, having 
 fortified the harbour in such a manner that the 
 enemy could not easily pursue him, he embark- 
 ed his troops with the utmost silence and dis- 
 patch, leaving only a few archers and slingers on 
 the walls, who were ordered to retreat in small 
 boats provided for that purpose, as soon as all the 
 heavy infantry were got on board. Caesar being 
 apprised of their retreat by the inhabitants of 
 the town, who were provoked at the ruin of their 
 houses, immediately attempted to prevent the 
 embarkation, and was actually going to lead his 
 men over a pitfall which Pompey had secretly 
 placed in his way, had he not been interrupted 
 by the townsmen, who apprised him of his dan- 
 ger. Thus did Pompey, with great skill and di- 
 ligence, make his escape, leaving the whole king- 
 dom of Italy at the mercy of his rival, without 
 either a town or an army that had strength to op- 
 pose his progress. 
 
 Csesar finding he could not follow Pompey for 
 want of shipping, resolved to go back to Rome, 
 and take possession of the public treasures, which 
 his opponent, by a most unaccountable oversight, 
 had neglected taking with him. It might have 
 been alleged, indeed, that as these treasures 
 were considered as a sacred deposit, and only to 
 be used in the last extremity, or in case of a Gal- 
 lic invasion, it would have been wrong in Pom- 
 pey to begin his operations with an act of im- 
 piety. Thus it often happens that the weaker
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 415 
 
 side, through a fear of discrediting their cause 
 by any thing irregular, ruin it by unseasonable 
 moderation. Caesar was received at Rome with 
 the repeated acclamations of the lower part of 
 the citizens, and by all his own party ; those of 
 the senate also who were attached to his interests 
 assembled to congratulate his arrival, to whom 
 he made a plausible speech, justifying his con- 
 duct, and professing his aversion to the violent 
 measures to which he had been compelled. 
 Then, under a pretence that his cause was that 
 ofjustice and of the commonwealth, he prepared 
 to possess himself of those treasures which had 
 been laid up for the uses of the public ; but upon 
 his coming up to the door of the treasury, Me- 
 tellus, the tribune, who guarded it, refused to let 
 him pass, alleging that the money was sacred, 
 and that horrible imprecations had been de- 
 nounced against such as touched it upon any 
 occasion but that ©fa Gallic war. Cassar, how- 
 ever, was not to be intimidated by his supersti- 
 tious remonstrances, observing that there was no 
 occasion for money to carry on a Gallic war, as 
 he had entirely subdued all Gaul already : the 
 tribune then pretending that the keys were miss- 
 ing, Caesar ordered his attendants to break open 
 the doors ; but Metellus had still the boldness to 
 dispute even this command ; whereupon Ctesar, 
 with more than usual emotion, laying his hand 
 upon his sword, threatened to strike him dead : 
 " And know, young man," cried he, " that it 
 " is easier to do this than to say it." This me-
 
 416 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 nace had its effect j Metellus retired, and Cassar 
 took out to the amount of three thousand pound 
 weight of gold, besides an immense quantity of 
 silver; which money was 'a principal means of 
 promoting his succeeding conquests. Having 
 thus provided for continuing the war, he depart- 
 ed from Rome, resolved to subdue Pompey's 
 lieutenants, Afranius and Petreius, who had been 
 long in Spain at the head of a veteran army. 
 
 Much had been expected by the opposite 
 party from the army in Spain ; it was composed 
 of the choicest legions of the empire, and had 
 been ever victorious under all its commanders. 
 Caesar, however, who knew the abilities of its 
 two present generals, jocosely said, as he was pre- 
 paring to go thither, that he went to fight an 
 army without a general, and upon conquering it 
 would return to fight a general without an army. 
 However, it may be inquired why Csesar did not 
 rather pursue Pompey directly, than thus step 
 out of the way, as it were, into Spain to engage 
 his generals. He had good reasons; he was sen- 
 sible that if he had overcome Pompey and driven 
 him out of Greece, where he was then making 
 preparations, he must probably have forced him 
 mto Spain, where of all places he dreaded most 
 to meet him 5 it was therefore prudent first to 
 destroy the army there, and then there was little 
 to be dreaded from the protection it might after- 
 wards afford. Accordingly having refreshed his 
 men, previous to their setting out, he led them 
 once more a long and fatiguing march across the
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 417 
 
 Alps through the extensive provinces of Gaul, 
 to meet the enemy in Spain. Indeed,, vi^ hen I 
 consider the amazing length of the vi^ay, and the 
 various countries his soldiers w^ere to pass, the 
 mountains they had to ascend, and the forests 
 to cut through, the various climates they were 
 to endure, and the military duties they vi^ere 
 to undergo, while every sentinel wore seventy 
 pounds weight of armour, that would be consi- 
 dered as a modern man's load, while besides this 
 each man was obliged to carr}^ with him ten days' 
 provision upon the point of his spear, and was 
 allowed nothing to drink but vinegar and water 
 on the way ; when I consider, I say, the fatigues 
 these must have undergone, and the length of 
 their continuance, I am struck with astonish- 
 ment at their invincible patience and resolution ! 
 Csesar having left one of his generals, with a part 
 of the army, to besiege Marseilles, which refused 
 to admit him, he proceeded with extreme dili- 
 gence on his march to Spain ; and to attach his 
 men more firmly to his interests, borrowed money 
 from all his officers, which he distributed among 
 the soldiers. Thus engaging the one to him by 
 his liberality, and the other by the expectation 
 of being repaid. 
 
 The first conflict which he had with Afranius 
 and Petreius, was rather unfavourable. It was 
 fought near the city of Herda, and both sides 
 claimed the honour of the victoj^^y. Neverthe- 
 less, it appeared soon after that Caesar was re- 
 duced to great straits for want of provisions, 
 VOL. I. 2 E
 
 4lB THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 which the overflowing of the river, and the posi- 
 tion of the enemy, entirely cut off. However, 
 nothing was able to subdue his diligence and 
 activity j for, causing slight boats covered with 
 leather to be made, and causing a diversion of the 
 enemy to another part, he carried his boats in 
 waggons twenty miles distant from the camp, 
 launched them upon the broadest part of the 
 river, and with great dexterity caused his legions 
 to pass over. Having thus gained new supplies 
 of provisions and men, he made a feint as if he 
 intended to distress the enemy in turn, by cutting 
 off their supplies, and for this purpose he began 
 to throw up intrenchments and cut ditches, as if 
 to turn the course of the river into a different 
 channel. These preparations so intimidated the 
 enemy, that they resolved to decamp by night : 
 but Caesar, who had intimation of their design by 
 his spies, pursued them with a small part of his 
 army, and forcing them to ford the river, before 
 they had time to rally on the other side, appeared 
 with the main body of his forces to receive them. 
 Thus hemmed in on both sides, they could nei- 
 ther get forward nor return to their former camp. 
 By these means he reduced them to such extre- 
 mity of hunger and drought, that they were 
 obliged to yield at discretion. But clemency was 
 his favourite virtue; he dismissed them all with 
 the kindest professions, and sent them home to 
 Rome loaden with shame and obligations to pub- 
 lish his virtues, and confirm the affections of his 
 adherents. Thus, in the' space of about forty
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 419 
 
 days, he became master of all Spain ; and then 
 departing to his army at Marseilles, obliged that 
 city to surrender at discretion. He pardoned the 
 inhabitants, as he said, chiefly upon account of 
 their name and antiquity ; and leaving two 
 legions in that garrison, returned again victori- 
 ous to Rome. The citizens upon this occasion 
 received him with fresh demonstrations of joy, 
 they created him dictator and consul ; but the 
 first of these offices he laid down after he had 
 held it but eleven days. His design in accepting 
 it was probably to show the people with what 
 readiness he could resign it. 
 
 While CaBsar was thus employed, Pompey was 
 equally active in making preparations in Epirus 
 and Greece to oppose him. All the monarchs 
 of the East had declared in his favour, and sent 
 very large supplies. He was master of nine ef-^ 
 fective Italian legions, and had a fleet of five 
 hundred large ships under the conduct of Bibu- 
 lus, an active and experienced commander. 
 Added to these, he was supplied with large sunas 
 of money, and all the necessaries for an army, 
 from the tributary provinces round him. He 
 had attacked Dolabella and Antony, who com- 
 manded for Caesar in that part of the empire, 
 with such success, that the former was obliged to 
 fly, and the latter was taken prisoner. Crowds 
 of the most distinguished citizens and nobles 
 from Rome came every day to join him. He 
 had at one time above two hundred senators in 
 his camp, among whom were Cicero, and .Cato, 
 
 2 E 2
 
 420 THE HISTORY OF TH£ 
 
 whose approbation of his cause was equivalent 
 to an army. These assisted him with their coun- 
 tenance and advice; and by their influence it 
 was determined that no Roman citizen should be 
 put to death out of battle, and that no town sub- 
 ject to the Roman empire should be plundered 
 by the conquerors. All these advantages both of 
 strength and counsel drew the wishes of mankind 
 to his cause, and raised an opposition that threat- 
 ened Cassar with speedy destruction. 
 
 Notwithstanding such preparations against 
 him, Gaesar proceeded with his usual vigour, and 
 with a courage that to ordinary capacities might 
 seem to be rashness. He now resolved to face 
 his rival in the East, and led his forces to Brun- 
 dusium, a sea-port town of Italy, in order to 
 transport them into Greece : but he wanted a 
 fleet numerous enough to carry the whole at 
 once, and it appeared dangerous to weaken his 
 army by dividing it : besides, it was now in the 
 midst of winter, and very difficult for any vessels, 
 much more for so slight a fleet as his was, to keep 
 ■the sea; added to this, all the ports and the shores 
 were filled with the numerous navy of his rival, 
 conducted by a very vigilant commander. How- 
 ever, these considerations could not over-rule his 
 desire to pursue the war with his usual unremit- 
 ting assiduity : wherefore he shipped off" five of 
 his twelve legions, which amounted to no more 
 than twenty thousand foot and six thousand 
 horse, and, weighing anchor, fortunately steered 
 through the midst of his enemies, timing it so
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 4S1 
 
 well that he made his passage in one day. He 
 landed at a place called Pharsalus, not daring 
 to venture into any known port, which he was 
 apprehensive might be possessed by the enemy. 
 When he saw his troops safely debarked, he sent 
 back the fleet to bring over the rest of his forces; 
 but thirty of his ships, in their return, fell into 
 the hands of Pompej^'s admiral, who set them all 
 on fire, destroying mariners and all, in order to 
 intimidate the rest by this cruel example. In 
 the mean time he was employed in taking pos- 
 session of such towns as had declared for his 
 enemy, and in cutting off provisions from the 
 fleet, which coasted along that part of the 
 country. But still convinced that the proper 
 time for making proposals for a peace was after 
 gaining an advantage, he sent one Rufus, whom 
 he had taken prisoner, to effect an accommoda- 
 tion with Pompey, offering to refer all to the 
 senate and people of Rome ; but Pompey once 
 more rejected the overture, holding the people 
 of Rome too much in Cassar's interests to be re- 
 lied on. 
 
 He was raising supplies in Macedonia when 
 first informed of Caesar's landing upon the coasts 
 of Epirus : he now, therefore, resolved imme- 
 diately to march to Dyrrhachium, in order to 
 cover that place from Caesar's attempts, as all 
 his ammunition and provisions were deposited 
 there. Upon his arrival at that city he began 
 to perceive that many of his new-raised troops 
 were very little to be depended uponj their
 
 42^ THE HISTORT OF THE 
 
 slowness in obeying commands, and their nume- 
 rous desertions, giving him very disagreeable ap- 
 prehensions. In consequence of this, heobhged 
 them to take an oath, that they would never 
 abandon their general, but follow him through 
 all his fortunes ; and being thus secure of their 
 attachment, he resolved to harass out his rival 
 by protracting the war, as his resources were 
 more numerous than those of Caesar. The first 
 place that both armies came in sight of each 
 other, was on the opposite banks of the river 
 Apsusj and as both were commanded by the 
 two greatest generals then in the world, the one 
 renowned for his conquest of the East, the 
 other celebrated for his victories over the West- 
 ern parts of the empire, a battle was eagerly de- 
 sired by the soldiers on either side. But neither 
 general was willing to hazard it upon this occa- 
 sion: Pompey could not rely upon his new 
 levies, and Caesar would not venture an en- 
 gagement, till he was joined by the rest of his 
 forces. Accordingly both armies remained in 
 this disposition for some days, looking upon 
 each other with all the anxiety of suspense, yet 
 each with equal confidence of success and mu- 
 tual resolution. 
 
 '.>? Caesar had now waited some time with ex- 
 treme impatience for the coming up of the re- 
 mainder of his army; the whole of his hopes de- 
 pended upon that reinforcement, and he had 
 written and sent several times to his generals to 
 use dispatch. At last, despairing of their punc-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 423 
 
 tuality, and desirous of being freed from the 
 anxiety of expectation, he resolved upon an at- 
 tempt, that nothing but the extraordinary con- 
 fidence he had in his good fortune could excuse. 
 He disguised himself in the habit of a slave, and 
 with all imaginable secrecy went on board a 
 fisherman's bark at the mouth of the river Ap- 
 sus, with a design to pass over to Brundusium, 
 where the rest of his forces lay, and to conduct 
 them over in person. He accordingly rowed 
 off in the beginning of the night, and was got 
 a considerable way to sea, when the wind all of 
 a sudden changed against him : the sea now 
 rose in billows of formidable height, and the 
 storm began to increase with much violence. 
 The fisherman, who had rowed all night with 
 great labour, was often for returning, but was 
 dissuaded by his passenger; but at length, 
 when far advanced on the ^intended voyage, he 
 found himself unable to proceed, and yet too 
 distant from land to hope for making good his 
 return : in this interval of despondence he was 
 going to give up the oar, and commit himself 
 to the mercy of the waves, when Cassar at last 
 discovering himself, commanded him to row 
 boldly : " Fear nothing," cried he, " you carry 
 '* Cassar and his fortune.'* Encouraged by the 
 presence of so great a man, the fisherman made 
 fresh endeavours, and got out to sea, but the 
 storm increasing still against them, he was 
 obliged to make for land, which was effected 
 not without great difficulty. As soon as he was
 
 424 THE HISTORY OP THE 
 
 on shore, Caesar's soldiers, who had for some 
 time missed their general, and knew not what 
 was become of him, came joyfully round him, 
 congratulating his escape, and kindly upbraid- 
 ing his attempt, in so far distrusting their cou- 
 rage and affection, as to seek out new forces, 
 when they were sure without any aid to con- 
 quer. His excuses were not less tender than 
 their remonstrances ; but the joy of both was 
 soon after still heightened, by an information of 
 the landing of the troops he had long expect- 
 ed at Apollonia, from whence they were ap- 
 proaching under the conduct of Antony and 
 Calenus, to join him ; he therefore decamped in 
 order to meet them, and prevent, if possible, 
 Pompey with his army from engaging them on 
 their march, as he lay on that side of the river 
 where the succours had been obliged to come 
 on shore. This dihgence was not less success- 
 ful than necessary ; for Pompey had actually 
 made some motions to anticipate their junction, 
 and had laid an ambuscade for Antony, which 
 failing, he was obliged to retreat, under an ap- 
 prehension of being hemmed in between the 
 two armies ; so that_, the junction was effected 
 the same day. 
 
 Pompey being compelled to retreat, led his 
 forces to Asparagus nigh Dyrrhachium, where 
 he was sure of being supplied with every thing 
 necessary for his army, by the numerous fleets 
 which he employed along the coasts of Epirus; 
 there he pitched his camp upon a tongue of
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 425 
 
 land (as mariners express it) that jutted into the 
 sea, where also was a small shelter for ships, 
 where few winds could annoy them : in this 
 place being most advantageously situated, he 
 immediately began to intrench his campj 
 which Caesar perceiving, and finding that he 
 was not likely soon to quit so advantageous a 
 post, began to intrench also behind him, caus- 
 ing magazines of corn to be made in all parts 
 not already wasted by the enemy's forces. Yet, 
 notwithstanding all his care, provisions began 
 to be very scarce in Cassar*s army : his men 
 were obliged to make use of beans and barley, 
 and a root called Chara, which they mingled 
 with milk; but they had been long used to 
 greater hardships than these, so that they bore 
 all with their accustomed patience, remember- 
 ing what great honours they had often gained 
 after a course of such miseries as these. The 
 inconveniences that were like to follow, how- 
 ever, put Csesar upon a new design. All be- 
 yond Pompey's camp, towards the land side, 
 was hilly and steep; wherefore Cassar built re- 
 doubts upon the hills, stretching round from 
 shore to shore, and then caused lines of com- 
 munication to be drawn from hill to hill, by 
 which he blocked up the camp of the enemy. 
 He hoped by this blockade to force the enemy 
 to a battle, which he ardently desired, and which 
 the other declined with equal industry. Not, in- 
 deed, but Pompey was continually and earnestly 
 solicited by hisofficers and the senators attending
 
 426 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 his camp, to hazard a battle ; but he knew too 
 well the clanger of such an attempt, and accord- 
 ingly thought only of harassing out the enemy 
 by perseverance. Thus both sides continued for 
 some time employed in designs and stratagems, 
 the one to annoy and the other to defend. Cae- 
 sar's men daily carried on their works to straiten 
 the enemy : those of Pompey did the same to en- 
 large themselves, having the advantage of num- 
 bers; and though they declined coming to a bat- 
 tle, yet they severely galled the enemy by their 
 shngers and archers. Cassar, however, was inde- 
 fatigable; he caused blinds or mantelets to be 
 made of skins of beasts to cover his men while at 
 work, he cut off all the water that supplied the 
 enemy's camp, and forage from the horses, so 
 that there remained no more subsistence for 
 them. In this situation, Pompey at last resolved 
 to l?reak through his lines, and gain some other 
 part of the country more convenient for encamp- 
 ment. Accordingly, having informed himself 
 of the condition of Caesar's fortifications from 
 some deserters who came over to him, he ordered 
 his light infantry and archers on board his ships, 
 with directions to attack Caesar's intrenchments 
 by sea, where they were least defended. This 
 was done with such effect, that all the centurions 
 of Caesar's first cohort were cut off except one; 
 and though Caesar and his oflTicers used their ut- 
 most endeavours to hinder Pompey's designs, yet 
 by means of reiterated attempts, he at last effect- 
 ed his purpose of extricating his army from his
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 427 
 
 former camp, and of encamping in another place 
 by the sea, where he had the conveniency of fo-« 
 rage and shipping also. Cassar being thus frus- 
 trated in his views of blocking up the enemy, 
 and perceiving the loss he had sustained, resolved 
 at last to force Pompey to a battle, though upon 
 disadvantageous terms. The engagement began 
 by attempting to cut off a legion of the enemy 
 which was posted in a wood, and this brought 
 on a general battle. The conflict was for some 
 time carried on with great ardour, and with 
 equal fortune ; but Caesar's army being entangled 
 in the intreuchments of the old camps lately 
 abandoned, began to fall into disorder, upon 
 which, Pompey pressing his advantage, they at 
 last fled with great precipitation. Great num- 
 bers perished in the trenches and on the banks 
 of the river, pressed to death by their fellows. 
 Pompey pursued his successes to the very camp 
 of Caesar, and now was the crisis of Caesar's fate; 
 it only depended upon the resolution and perse- 
 verance of Pompey's men to attack his intreuch- 
 ments, and utterly destroy his whole army: but 
 his usual good fortune prevailed; Pompey, either 
 surprised with the suddenness of his victory, or 
 fearful of an ambuscade, withdrew his troops 
 into his own camp, and thus lost the empire of 
 the world. However, his generals and attendants 
 looked upon his present success as a decisive 
 termination of the war. Not thinking of future 
 engagements and dangers, they carried themselves 
 as undoubted conquerors, and adding cruelty to
 
 428 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 their confidence, put all their prisoners to the 
 sword. Cassar, however, was not to be intimi- 
 dated by a single blow ; he found that hitherto 
 his attempts to force Pompey to engage him 
 upon equal terms were ineffectual, he therefore 
 resolved to appear as if willing to change the 
 whole course of the war, and to protract it in his 
 turn; wherefore, calling the army together, he 
 addressed them, with his usual calmness and in- 
 trepidity, in the following manner: " We have 
 " no reason, my fellow-soldiers, to be dejected at 
 ** our late miscarriage; the loss of one battle, 
 ^^ after such numbers that have been gained, 
 " should rather awaken our caution than depress 
 " our resolution : let us remember the long course 
 ** of victories which have been gained by us in 
 •* Gaul, Britain, Italy, and Spain, and then let as 
 ** consider how many greater dangers we have 
 ** escaped, which have only served to increase 
 " the pleasure of succeeding victory. If after all 
 " these renowned exploits and glorious successes, 
 " one little disorder, one error of inadvertency, 
 " or indeed of destiny itself, has deprived us of 
 •^ our just reward, yet we have still sufficient 
 " force to ensure it for the future; and though 
 " we should be deprived of every resource, yet 
 " the brave have one still left to overcome every 
 ** danger, namely, to despise it." After thus en- 
 couraging his men, and degrading some of his 
 subaltern officers who were remiss in their duty, 
 he prepared to lead his forces from their camp, 
 and to make his retreat to Apollonia, where he
 
 \ 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 4i%9 
 
 intended to refresh and recruit his army. Hav- 
 ing therefore caused his baggage to go on be- 
 fore, he marched after at the head of his soldiers, 
 and though pursued by Pompey, yet having the 
 advantage of setting off eight hours before him, 
 be effected his intent. 
 
 In the mean time, Domitius, one of his lieu- 
 tenants, was in Macedonia with three legions, 
 and in danger of being surprised by the superior 
 forces of the enemy; he resolved therefore to 
 join them with all expedition, and after having 
 refreshed his army, set forward with the utmost 
 dispatch. Pompey was in pretty much the same 
 circumstances of apprehension for Scipio, one of 
 his lieutenants, who was in Thessaly, at the head 
 of the Syrian legion ; and he was fearful, lest 
 Cassar's march was intended to cut off this body 
 of troops before their junction. Thus each ge- 
 neral marched with all the diligence possible, 
 both to secure their friends and surprise their 
 enemies. Cagsar's dispatch was most successful ; 
 he was joined by Domitius upon the frontiers of 
 Thessaly; and thus, with all his forces united in- 
 to one body, he marched directly to Gomphi, a 
 town that lies farther within that province. But 
 the news ofhis defeat at Dyrrhachium had reached 
 this place before him; the inhabitants, there- 
 fore, who had before promised him obedience, 
 now changed their minds, and, with a degree of 
 baseness equal to their imprudence, shut their 
 gates against him. Caesar was not to be injured 
 with impunity i wherefore, having represented to
 
 430 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 his soldiers the great advantage of forcing a 
 place so very rich, he ordered the machines for 
 scaling to be got ready; and, causing an assault 
 to be made, proceeded with such vigour, that, 
 notwithstanding the great height of the walls, 
 the town was taken in a few hours* time. Caesar 
 left it to be plundered, and without delaying his 
 march, went forward to Metropolis, another 
 town of the same province, which yielded at his 
 approach; by this means, he soon became pos-» 
 sessed of all Thessaly, except Larissa, which was 
 garrisoned by Scipio with his legion, who com- 
 manded for Pompey. 
 
 During this interval, Pompey *s officers, being 
 grown insupportably vain upon their late victory, 
 were continually soliciting their commander to 
 come to a battle; every delay became insupport- 
 able to them ; they presumed to assert, that he 
 was willing to make the most of his command, 
 and to keep the numerous body of senators and 
 nobles that followed his fortunes still in subjec- 
 tion : confident of victory, they divided all the 
 places in the government among each other, and 
 portioned out the lands of those whom in imagi- 
 nation they had already vanquished, amongst 
 each other. Nor did revenge less employ their 
 thoughts, than ambition or avarice : this was not 
 confined to such only as had taken up arms 
 against them, but to all those who continued 
 neuter, and had yet sided with neither party. 
 The proscription was actually drawn up, not for 
 the condemnation of individuals, but of whole
 
 \ 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 431 
 
 ranks of the enemy: it was even proposed, that 
 all the senators in Pompey's army should be ap- 
 pointed judges over such as had either actually 
 opposed, or by their neutrality had failed to as- 
 sist their party. Pompey being thus surrounded 
 by men of weak heads and eager expectations, 
 and incessantly teased with importunities to en- 
 gage, found himself too weak to oppose : he re- 
 solved therefore at last to renounce his own 
 judgment, in compliance with those about him, 
 and to give up all schemes of prudence for those 
 dictated by avarice and passion. Wherefore, ad- 
 vancing into Thessaly, within a few days after 
 the taking of Gomphi, he drew down upon the 
 plains of Pharsalia, where he was joined by Sci- 
 pio his lieutenant, with the troops under his com- 
 mand. Here he awaited the coming up of Caesar, 
 resolved upon engaging, and upon deciding the 
 fa'te of kingdoms at a single battle. 
 
 Caesar had employed all his art for some time 
 in sounding the incUnations of his men, and pro- 
 viding for their safety in case of miscarriage; but 
 at length, finding them resolute and vigorous, 
 he caused them to advance towards the plains of 
 Pharsalia, where Pompey was now encamped. 
 The approach of these two great armies, com- 
 posed of the best and bravest troops in the world, 
 together with the greatness of the prize for which 
 they "contended, filled all minds with anxiety, 
 though with different expectations. Pompey's 
 army, being most numerous, turned all their 
 thoughts to the enjoyment of the victory; Caasar's,
 
 432 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 with better aims, considered only the means of ob- 
 taining it: Pompey's army depended upon their 
 numbers, and their many generals 5 Caesar's, up- 
 on their own discipline, and the conduct of their 
 single commander: Pompey's partizans hoped 
 much from the justice of their cause; Ctesar's 
 alleged the frequent proposals which they had 
 made for peace without effect : thus the views, 
 hopes, and motives of both seemed different, but 
 their hatred and ambition were the same. Caesar, 
 who was ever foremost in offering battle, led out 
 his army in array to meet the enemy; but Pom- 
 pey, either suspecting his troops, or dreading the 
 event, kept his advantageous situation for some 
 time : he drew indeed sometimes out of his camp, 
 but always kept himself under his trenches, at 
 the foot of the hill near which he was posted. 
 Cassar being unwilling to attack hipi at a disad- 
 vantage, resolved to decamp the next day, hop** 
 ing to harass out his antagonist, who was not a 
 match for him in sustaining the fatigues of duty ; 
 and in expectation, that as the enemy would not 
 fail following him, he might find some happier 
 opportunity of coming to an Engagement. Ac^ 
 cordingly, the order for marching was given, 
 and the tents struck, when word was brought 
 him, that Pompey's army had quitted their in- 
 trenchments, and had advanced further into the 
 plain than usual, so that he might engage them 
 at less disadvantage. This was the juncture that 
 Caesar had so long wished for in vain ; ever since 
 he had landed in Greece, he had been employed
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 433 
 
 in endeavours to draw on a general engagement, 
 and feared nothing so much as to protract the 
 war: whereupon he now caused his troops that 
 were upon their march to halt, and with a coun- 
 tenance of joy informed them that the happy 
 time was at last come, which they had so long 
 wished for, and which was to crown their glory 
 and terminate their fatigues. After which he 
 drew up his troops in order, and advanced to- 
 wards the place of battle. His forces did not 
 amount to above half those of Pompey ; the 
 army of the one amounting to above forty-five 
 thousand foot, and seven thousand horse ; that 
 of the other not exceeding twenty-two thousand 
 foot, and about a thousand horse. This dis- 
 proportion, particularly in the cavalry, had fill- 
 ed Caesar with apprehensions; wherefore he had 
 some days before picked out the strongest and 
 nimblest of his foot soldiers, and accustomed 
 them to fight between the ranks of his cavalry. 
 By their assistance his thousand horse was a 
 match for Pompey 's seven thousand, and had ac- 
 tually got the better in a skirmish that happened 
 between them some days before. 
 
 Pompey, on the other hand, had strong ex- 
 pectations of success; he boasted in council, 
 that he could put Caesar's legions to flight with- 
 out striking a single blow, presuming, that as 
 soon as the armies formed, his cavalry, on which 
 be placed his greatest expectations, would out- 
 fl^ank and surround the enemy. Labienus com- 
 mended this scheme of Pompey ; alleging also 
 
 VOL. I. 2 F
 
 434 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 that the present troops of which Csesar's army 
 was composed, were but the shadow of those old 
 legions that had fought in Britain and Gaul ; 
 that all the veterans were worn out, and had 
 been replaced by new levies made in a hurry in 
 Cisalpine Gaul. To increase the confidence of 
 the army still more, he took an oath, which the 
 rest followed him in, never to return to the camp 
 but with victorj'^. In this disposition, and under 
 these advantageous circumstances, Pompey led 
 his troops to battle. 
 
 Pompe}''s order of battle was good and well 
 judged. In the centre and on the two flanks he 
 placed all his veterans, and distributed his new- 
 raised troops between the wings and the main 
 body. The Syrian legions were placed in the 
 centre under the command of Scipio ; the Spa- 
 niards, on whom he greatly relied, were put on 
 the right under Domitius yEnoBarbus; and on 
 the left were stationed the two legions which 
 Ca3sar had restored in the beginning of the war, 
 led on by Pompey himself; because from thence 
 he intended to make the attack which was to 
 gain the day; and for the same reason he had 
 there assembled all his horse, slingers, and' arch- 
 ers, of which his right wing had no need, being 
 covered by the river Enipeus. Caesar likewise 
 divided his army into three bodies under three 
 commanders; Domitius Calvinus being placed 
 in the centre, and Mark Antony on the left, 
 while he himself led on the right "wing, which was 
 to oppose the left commanded by Pompey. It is
 
 \ 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 435 
 
 remarkable enough that Pompey chose to put 
 himself at the head of those troops which were 
 disciplined and instructed byCcesar; an incon- 
 testable proof how mucli he valued them above 
 any of the rest of his army. Caesar, on the con- 
 trary, placed himself at the head of his tenth le-- 
 gion, that bad owed all its merit and fame to his 
 own training. As he observed the enemy's nu- 
 merous cavalry to be all drawn to one spot, he 
 guessed at Pompey 's intention ; toobviate which 
 he made a draught of six cohorts from his rear 
 line, and forming them into a separate body, 
 concealed them behind his right wing, with in- 
 structions not to throw their javelins on the ap- 
 proach of Pompey's horse, as was customary, 
 but to keep them in their hands and push them 
 directly in the faces and the eyes of the horse- 
 men, who, being composed of the younger part of 
 the Roman nobility, valued themselves much upon 
 their beauty, and dreaded a scar in the face more 
 than a wound in the body. He lastly placed the 
 little cavalry he had^so as to cover the right of 
 the tenth legion, ordering his third line not to 
 march till they had received the signal from him. 
 And now the fate of the vast empire of Rome 
 was to be decided by the greatest generals, the 
 bravest officers, and the most expert troops, that 
 mankind had ever seen till that hour. Each 
 private man in both armies was almost capable 
 of performing the duty of a commander, and 
 seemed inspired with a desire to conquer or die. 
 As the armies approached, the two generals went 
 
 2f 21
 
 456* THE HISTOIIY OF THE 
 
 from rank to rank encouraging their men, warm- 
 ing their hopes and lessening their apprehensions. 
 Pompey represented to his men, that the glorious 
 occasion which they had long besought him to 
 grant, was now before them : " And, indeed," 
 cried he, " what advantages could you wish over 
 " an enemy that you are not now possessed of? 
 " your numbers, your vigour, a late victory, all 
 " assure a speedy and easy conquest of those 
 " harassed and broken troops, composed of 
 " men worn out with age, and impressed with 
 " the terrors of a recent defeat; but there is still 
 '' a stronger bulwark for our protection than the 
 ** superiority of our strength, the justice of our 
 *' cause. You are engaged in the defence of 
 " liberty and of your country ; you are sup- 
 " ported by its laws, and followed by its ma- 
 " gistrates ; you have the world spectators of 
 " your conduct, and wishing you success : 
 ** on the contrary, he whom you oppose is a 
 ** robber and oppressor of his country, and al- 
 ** most already sunk with the consciousness of 
 " his crimes, as well as the bad success of his 
 " arms. Show then, on this occasion, all that 
 " ardour and detestation of tyranny that should 
 *' animate Romans, and do justice to mankind/' 
 Caesar, on his side, went among his men with that 
 steady serenity for which he was so much admired 
 in the midst of danger. He insisted on nothing 
 so strongly to his soldiers as his frequent and 
 unsuccessful endeavours for peace. He talked 
 with terror of the blood he was going to shed,
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 437 
 
 and pleaded only the necessity that urged him 
 to it. He deplored the many brave men that 
 were to fall on both sides, and the wounds of 
 his country, whoever should be victorious. His 
 soldiers answered his speech with looks of ar- 
 dour and impatience, which observing, he gave 
 the signal to begin. The word on Pompey's 
 side was, Hercules the invincible; that on Cae- 
 sar's, Venus the victorious. There was only 
 so much space between both armies as to give 
 room for fighting ; wherefore Pompey ordered 
 his men to receive the first shock without mov- 
 ing out of their places, expecting the enemies' 
 ranks to be put into disorder by their motion. 
 Cassar's soldiers were now rushing on with their 
 usual impetuosity, when perceiving the enemy 
 motionless, they all stopped short, as if by ge- 
 neral consent, and halted in the midst of their 
 career. A terrible pause ensued, in which both 
 armies continued to gaze upon each other with 
 mutual terror and dreadful serenity: at length 
 Caesar's men having taken breath, ran furi- 
 ously upon the enemy, first discharging their 
 javelins and then drawing their swords. The 
 same method was observed by Pompey's troops, 
 who as vigorously sustained the attack. His 
 cavalry also were ordered to charge at the very 
 onset, which, with the multitude of archers and 
 slingers, soon obhged Caesar's men to give 
 ground, and get themselves, as he had foreseen, 
 upon the flank of his army : whereupon Cagsar 
 immediately ordered the six cohorts that were 
 
 ^
 
 4SS THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 placed as a reinforcement to advance, and re- 
 peated his orders to strike at the enemies' faces. 
 This had its desired effect ; the cavalry that 
 were but just now sure of victory, received an 
 immediate check : the unusual method of fight- 
 ing pursued by the cohorts, their aiming en- 
 tirely at the visages of the assailants, and the 
 horrible disfiguring wounds they made, all con- 
 tributed to intimidate them so much, that, in- 
 stead of defending their persons, their only en- 
 deavour was to save their faces. A total rout 
 ensued of their whole body, which fled in great 
 disorder to the neighbouring mountains, while 
 the archers and slingers, who were thus aban- 
 doned, were cut to pieces. Caesar now com- 
 manded the cohorts to pursue their success, and 
 advancing, charged Pompey's troops upon the 
 flank J this charge the enemy withstood for some 
 time wnth great bravery, till he brought up his 
 third line, which hadnotyet engaged. Pompey's 
 infantry being thus doubly attacked, in front 
 by fresh troops and in rear by the victorious 
 cohorts, could no longer resist, but fled to their 
 camp. The flight began among the strangers, 
 though Pompey's right wing still valiantly 
 maintained their ground. Caesar, however, be- 
 ing convinced that the victory was certain, with 
 bis usual clemency cried out to pursue the 
 strangers, but to spare the Romans ; upon 
 which they all laid down their arms, and re- 
 ceived quarter. The greatest slaughter was 
 among the auxiliaries, who fled on all quarterg;^
 
 \ 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 439^ 
 
 but principally went for safety to the camp. 
 The battle had now lasted from the break of day 
 till noon, the weather being extremely hot; 
 notwithstanding the conquerors did not remit 
 their ardour, being encouraged by the example 
 of their general, who thought his victory not 
 complete till he was master of the enemy's 
 camp. Accordingly, marching on foot at their 
 head, he called upon them to follow and strike 
 the decisive blow. The cohorts which were 
 left to defend the camp, for some time made a 
 formidable resistance; particularly a great num- 
 ber of Thracians and other barbarians, who 
 were appointed for its defence: but nothing 
 could resist the ardour of Caesar's victorious 
 army ; they were at last driven from their trench- 
 es, and all fled to the mountains not far off. 
 
 Cassar seeing the field and camp strewed with 
 his fallen countrymen, was strongly .affected at 
 so melancholy a prospect, and could not help 
 crying out to one that stood near him, "They 
 ** would have it so." Upon entering the enemies* 
 camp, every object presented fresh instances of 
 the blind presumption and madness of his adver- 
 saries : on all sides were to be seen tents adorned 
 with ivy and branches of myrtle, couches cover- 
 ed with purple, and side-boards loaded with plate. 
 Every thing gave proofs of the highest luxury, 
 and seemed rather the preparative for a banquet, 
 the rejoicings for a victory, than the dispositions 
 for a battle. A camp so richly furnished might 
 have been able to engage the attention of any 
 
 ^
 
 440 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 troops but Caesar's: there was still something to 
 be done, and he would not permit them to pur- 
 sue any other object than their enemies, till they 
 were entirely subdued. A considerable body of 
 these having retired to the adjacent mountains, 
 he prevailed on his soldiers to join him in pursuit, 
 in order to oblige these to surrender : he began 
 by enclosing them with a line drawn at the foot 
 of the mountain ; but they quickly abandoned a 
 post which was not tenable for want of water, 
 and endeavoured to reach the city of Larissa, 
 Cassar led a part of his army by a shorter way, 
 and intercepted their retreat, drawing up in order 
 of battle between them and the city. However, 
 these unhappy fugitives once more found protec- 
 tion from a mountain, at the foot of which a rivu- 
 let ran which supplied them with water. Now 
 night approaching, Caesar's men were almost 
 spent, and ready to faint with their incessant toil 
 since morning : yet still he prevailed upon them 
 once more to renew their labours, and to cut off the 
 rivulet that supplied them. The fugitives, thus de- 
 prived of all hopes of succour or subsistence, sent 
 deputies to the conqueror, offering to surrender 
 at discretion. During this interval of negotiation, 
 a few senators that were among them took the 
 advantage of the night to escape ; and the rest 
 next morning gave up their arms, and experi- 
 enced the conqueror's clemency. In fact, he 
 addressed them with great gentleness, and for- 
 bade his soldiers to offer them any violence, or 
 t;o take any thing from them. Thus Caesar by
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 441 
 
 his conduct gained the most complete victo-* 
 ry that had ever been obtained, and by his 
 great clemency after the battle, seemed to have 
 deserved it. His loss amounted only to two hun- 
 dred men, that of Pompey to fifteen thousand, 
 as well Romans as auxiliaries: twenty-four 
 thousand men surrendered themselves prisoners 
 of war, and the greatest part of these entered into 
 Caesar's army, and were incorporated with the 
 rest of his forces. As to the senators and Roman 
 knights who fell into his hands, he generously 
 gave them liberty to retire wherever they thought 
 proper: and as for the letters which Pompey had 
 received from several persons who wished to be 
 thought neutral, he burnt them all without 
 reading them, as Pompey had done upon a for- 
 mer occasion. Thus having performed all the 
 duties of a general and a statesman, he sent for 
 the legions which had passed the night in the 
 camp, to relieve those which had accompanied 
 him in the pursuit; and being determined to fol- 
 low Pompey, began his march, and arrived at 
 Larissa. 
 
 As for Pompey, who had formerly shown 
 such instances of courage and conduct, when 
 he saw his cavalry routed, on which he had 
 placed his sole dependence, he absolutely lost 
 his reason. Instead of thinking how to remedy 
 this disorder, by rallying such troops as fled, or 
 by opposing fresh troops to stop the progress of 
 the conquerors, being totally amazed by this 
 fn*st blow, he returned to the camp, and in his
 
 442 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 tent, waited the issue of an event which it was 
 his duty to direct, not to follow : there he re- 
 mained for some moments without speaking, 
 till being told that the camp was attacked, 
 *' What !*' says he " are we pursued to our very 
 " intrenchments ?" and immediately quitting his 
 armour for a habit more suited to his circum- 
 stances, he fled away on horseback to Larissa ; 
 from whence perceiving he was not pursued, 
 he slackened his pace, giving way to all the 
 agonizing reflections which his deplorable situa- 
 tion must naturally suggest. In this melancholy 
 manner he passed along the vale of Tempe, and 
 pursuing the course of the river Peneus, at last 
 arrived at a fisherman's hut, in which he passed 
 the night. From thence he went on board a 
 little bark, and keeping along the sea-shore, he 
 descried a ship of some burthen, which seemed 
 preparing to sail, in which he embarked, the 
 master of the vessel still paying him the homage 
 which was due to his former station. From 
 the mouth of the river Peneus, he sailed to 
 Amphipolis, where finding his afl'airs desperate, 
 he steered to Lesbos, to take in his wife Cor- 
 nelia, v\^hom he had left there, at a distance 
 from the dangers and hurry of the war. She, 
 who had long flattered herself with the hopes of 
 victory, felt the reverse of her fortune in an 
 agony of distress: she was desired by the mes- 
 senger, whose tears, more than words, proclaimed 
 the greatness of her misfortunes, to dispatch 
 if she expected to see Pompey, with but one
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 443 
 
 ship, and even that not his own : her grief, 
 which before was violent, became then insup- 
 portable : she fainted away, and lay a considerar 
 ble time without any signs of life. At length, 
 recovering herself, and reflecting it was now no 
 time for vain lamentations, she ran quite through 
 the city, to the sea- side. Pompey received her 
 in his arms, without speaking a word, and for 
 some time supported her in his arms in silent 
 despair. After a pause of long continuance, 
 they found words for their distress: Cornelia 
 imputed to herself a part of the miseries that vVere 
 come upon them, and instanced many former 
 misfortunes of her life. Pompey endeavoured to 
 comfort her, by instancing the uncertainty of 
 human affairs, and from this present unexpected 
 wretchedness, teaching her to hope for as unex- 
 pected turns of good fortune. In the mean 
 time, the people of the island, who had great 
 obligations to Pompey, gathered round them, 
 joining in their grief, and inviting them into 
 their city. Pompey, however, declined their in- 
 vitation, and even advised them to submit to 
 the conqueror. " Be under no apprehensions,*' 
 cried he; *' Caesar may be my enemy, but still 
 *' let me acknowledge his moderation and hu- 
 " manity." Cratippus, the Greek philosopher, 
 also came to pay hjs respects. Pompey, as is 
 but too frequent with persons under misfor- 
 tunes, complained to him of Providence. Cratip- 
 pus, who was a man of genius and understood 
 the world, declined entering deeply into the
 
 444 THE HISTORY OF THE 
 
 argument; rather satisfied with supplying new 
 motives to hope, than combating the present 
 impiety of his despair. 
 
 Having taken in Cornelia, he now continued 
 his course, steering to the south-east, and stopping 
 no longer than was necessary to take in provi- 
 sions at the ports that occurred in his passage. 
 He came before Rhodes, but the people of this 
 city were changed with his fortunes against 
 him. From thence he went to Attilia, where 
 he was joined by some soldiers and ships of war. 
 However, these were nothing against the power 
 of his rival, from the activity of whose pursuit 
 he was in continual apprehensions. His forces 
 were too much ruined and dispersed to be ever 
 collected once more; his only hopes therefore 
 lay in the assistance of the kings who were in 
 his alliance ; and from these only he could ex- 
 pect security and protection. He was himself 
 inclined to retire to the Parthians; others pro- 
 posed Juba, kingof Numidiaj but he was at last 
 prevailed upon to apply to Ptolemy, king of 
 Egypt, to whose father Pompey had been a con- 
 siderable benefactor. Accordingly, he left Cilicia, 
 where he then was; and steering for the kingdom 
 of Egypt, came in view of the coasts of that coun- 
 try, and sent to the young king, to implore pro- 
 tection and safety. Ptolemy, who was as yet a 
 minor, had not the government in his own hands, 
 but he and his kingdom were under the protec- 
 tion of Photinus, an eunuch, and Theodotus, a 
 master of the art of speaking. Before these.
 
 - COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 445 
 
 therefore, Pompey's request was argued : before 
 such mean and mercenary persons was to be de- 
 termined the fate of one, who, but a few days 
 before, had given laws to kingdoms. The opi- 
 nions of the council were divided ; gratitude and 
 pity inclined some to receive him, whilst others, 
 more obdurate or more timorous, were for deny- 
 ing him entrance into the kingdom. -At length, 
 Theodotus the rhetorician, as if willing to display 
 his eloquence, maintained, that both proposals 
 were equally dangerous: that to admit him, was 
 making Pompey their master, and drawing on 
 them Cccsar's resentment; and by not receiving 
 him, they offended the one without obliging the 
 other ; that, therefore, the only expedient left, 
 was to give him leave to land, and then to kill 
 him : this would at once oblige Caesar, and rid 
 them of all apprehensions from Pompey's resent- 
 ment; "for," concluded he, with a vulgar and 
 malicious joke, " dead dogs can never bite." This 
 advice prevailing in a council composed of the 
 slaves of an effeminate and luxurious court, 
 Achillas,commander of the forces, and Septimius, 
 by birth a Roman, and who had formerly been 
 SI centurion in Pompey's army, were appointed 
 to carry it into execution. Accordingly, attend- 
 ed by three or four more, they went into a little 
 bark, and rowed off from land towards Pompey's 
 ship, that lay off about a mile from the shore. 
 When Pompey and his friends saw the boat 
 moving off tf om the shore, they began to wonder 
 at the meanness of the preparations to receive
 
 446 THE HISTORY Of THE 
 
 him, and some even ventured to suspect the in- 
 tentions of the Egyptian court. But before any 
 thing could be determined, Achillas vi^as come 
 up to the ship's side, and in the Greek language 
 welcomed him to Egypt, and invited him into the 
 boat, alleging, that the shallovi^s prevented larger 
 vessels from coming off to receive him. Pompey, 
 after having taken leave of Cornelia, who wept 
 at his departure, and having repeated two verses 
 of Sophocles, signifying, that he who trusts his 
 freedom to a tj'^rant, from that moment becomes 
 a slave, gave his hand to Achillas, and stepped 
 into the bark with only two attendants of his 
 own. They had now rowed from the ship a 
 good way; and as during that time they all kept 
 a profound silence, Pompey, willing to begin the 
 discourse, accosted Septimius, whose face he 
 recollected. " Methinks, friend," cried he, 
 " that you and I were once fellow-soldiers to- 
 " gether." Septimius gave only a nod with his 
 head, without uttering a word, or instancing the 
 least civility. Pompey, therefore, took out a 
 paper, on which he had minuted a speech he in- 
 tended to make the. king, and began to read it. 
 In this manner they approached the shore; and 
 Cornelia, whose concern had never suffered her 
 to lose sight of her husband, began to conceive 
 hopes, when she perceived the people on the 
 strand crowding down along the coast, as if 
 willing to receive him: but her hopes were soon 
 destroyed ; for that instant, as Pompey rose, sup- 
 porting himself upon his freedman's arm, Sep-
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ROME. 447 
 
 timiiis stabbed him in the back, and was instantly- 
 seconded by Achillas. Pompey perceiving his 
 death inevitable, only disposed himself to meet 
 it with decency; and covering his face with his 
 robe, without speaking a word, with a sigh re- 
 signed himself to his fate. At this horrid sight, 
 Cornelia shrieked so loud as to be heard to the 
 shore ; but the danger she herself was in did not 
 allow the mariners time to look on; they imme- 
 diately set sail, and the wind proving favourable, 
 fortunately they escaped the pursuit of the 
 Egyptian galleys. In the mean time, Pompey's 
 murderers having cut off his head, caused it to 
 be embalmed, the better to preserve its features, 
 designing it for a present to Caesar. The body 
 was thrown naked on the strand, and exposed to 
 the view of all whose curiosity led them that way. 
 However, his faithful freedman, Philip, still 
 kept near it, and when the crowd was dispersed, 
 he washed it in the sea, and looking round for 
 materials to burn it, he perceived the wreck 
 of a fishing boat, of which he composed a pile. 
 While he was thus piously employed, he was 
 accosted by an old Roman soldier, who had 
 served under Pompey \n his youth. " Who art 
 *' thou," said he, " that art making these humble 
 "preparations for Pompey's funeral?" Philip 
 having answered, that hewas oneof his freedmen, 
 " Alas," replied the soldier, *' permit me to share 
 ** in this honour also : among the miseries of 
 ** my exile, it will be my last sad comfort, that 
 " I have been able to assist at the funeral of my
 
 448 The histort of iiiil 
 
 " old commander, and touch the body of th(* 
 ** bravest general that ever Rome produced." 
 After this, they both joined in giving the corse 
 the last rites, and collecting his ashes, buried 
 them under a little rising earth, scraped together 
 with their hands, over which was afterwards 
 placed the following inscription : ** He whose 
 "merits deserved a temple, can now scarce find 
 " a tomb." Such was the end, and such the 
 funeral, of Pompey the Great; a man who had 
 many opportunities of enslaving his country', but 
 yet rejected them all. He was fonder of glory 
 than of power, of praise rather than command, 
 and was more vain than ambitious. His talents 
 in war were every way superior to all the rest of 
 his contemporaries, except Ca3sar; it was there- 
 fore his peculiar misfortune to contend with a 
 man, in whose presence all other military merit 
 lost all its lustre. Whether his aims during the 
 last war were more just than Ca3sar's, must for 
 ever remain doubtful ; certain it is, that Ine fre- 
 quently rejected all offers of accommodation, 
 and began to talk of punishment, before he had 
 any pretensions to power. But whatever might 
 have been his intentions in case of victory, they 
 could not have been executed with more mode- 
 ration than those of Caesar. The corruptions of 
 the state were too great to admit of any other 
 cure but that of an absolute government, and it 
 was not possible that power could have fallen 
 into better hands than those of the conqueror. 
 From Pompey 's death, therefore, we may date
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF EOME. 449 
 
 the total extinction of the republic. From this 
 period the senate was dispossessed of all its 
 power, and Rome, from henceforward, was never 
 without a master. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 S, G
 
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