Download Lesson I ideal citizen of a republic In the beginning Rome, too, was

Lesson I
ideal citizen of a republic
In the beginning Rome, too, was ruled by kings. We know the names of some of these kings, Romulus, being
the most famous, and Tarquin (TAHR-kwin) the Proud, being the last. In 509 B.C., that is, nineteen years
before the battle of Marathon, at around the same time that Cleisthenes drove Hippias from Athens, Rome
got rid of her kings and replaced the monarchy with a republic. The Roman historian Livy in his book After
the Year Of Our City, abbreviated A.U.C., tells the story of the events that led up to the revolution in which the
Romans got rid of their king. He tells the story of Tarquin the Proud, his son Sextus and of a woman named
Lucretia. The story begins in the camp of the Roman army. The army is fighting against one of Rome’s
neighbors, and while in their tent, events take place that changed the course of history.
With no hope of any future action, the soldiers were sitting in their tents, and some officers were sitting with
Tarquin’s son Sextus in his tent. Collatinus (Col-la-ti-ness) was also present. Someone mentioned the subject of
wives. Each of them praised his own wife, and the rivalry got hotter and hotter, until Collatinus suddenly cried:
“Stop! What need is there of words, when in a few hours we can prove beyond a doubt the superiority of my
Lucretia (LU-cre-sha)? We are all young and strong: why don’t we ride back to Rome and see with our own eyes
what kind of women our wives are? There is no better evidence, I assure you, than what a man finds when he enters
his wife’s room unexpectedly.”
The idea appealed to them, so they mounted their horses and galloped off to Rome. They reached the city as dusk
was falling and there the wives were found enjoying themselves at a party in the greatest luxury. The riders then
went on to Collatinus’ where they found Lucretia doing something quite different. It was already late at night, but
there, in the hall of her house, surrounded by her maids, she was still hard at work by lamplight on her sewing and
spinning. Which wife had won the contest for virtue was no longer in doubt.
With great politeness, Lucretia rose to welcome her husband and the princess, and Collatinus, pleased with his
success, invited his friends to have supper with him. It was at that supper that Lucretia’s beauty kindled in Sextus
the flame of lust, and he determined to seduce her.
Nothing happened further that night. The little trip was over and the young men rode back to camp.
A few days later, Sextus, without Collatinus’ knowledge, returned with one companion to the town of Collatia,
where he was welcomed in Lucretia’s house, and, after supper, he was taken, like the honored visitor that he was
thought to be, to the guest chamber. Here he waited until the house was asleep, and then, when all was quiet, he
drew his sword and made his way to Lucretia’s room determined to rape her. She was asleep. Laying his left hand
on her breast, ‘Lucretia,’ he said, ‘not a sound! I am Sextus. I am armed – if you utter a word, I will kill you.’
Lucretia opened her eyes in terror; death was coming, no help at hand. Sextus urged his love, begged her to give in,
pleaded, threatened, and used every weapon that might win a woman’s heart. But not even the fear of death could
bend her will. ‘If death does not move you,’ Sextus cried, ‘dishonor will. I will kill you first, then cut the throat of a
slave and lay his naked body by your side. Will they not believe that you have been caught in adultery with a servant
– and paid the price?’ Even the strongest chastity could not have stood against this dreadful threat.
Lucretia yielded. Sextus took advantage of her, and rode away, proud of his success.The unhappy girl wrote to her
father in Rome and to her husband Collatinus urging them to come at once with a trusted friend – and quickly, for a
terrible thing had happened. Her father and Collatinus, with his friend Brutus, went to her. This man Brutus had
assumed a mask to hide his true character. In the past, when he learned of the murder by Tarquin of some other
Roman aristocrats, one of the victims being his own brother, he had come to the conclusion that the only way of
saving himself was to appear in the king’s eyes as a person of no worth. If there were nothing in his character for
Tarquin to fear, then the contempt in which he was held would be a better protection than his own rights could ever
be. Therefore, he pretended to be a half-wit and made no protest at the stealing by Tarquin of everything he owned.
He even allowed himself to be called the ‘Dullard’, that under the cover of that title, the great spirit which gave
Rome her freedom might be able to survive.
When these men arrived at the home of Collatinus they found Lucretia sitting in her room, in deep sadness. Tears
rose to her eyes as they entered, and to her husband’s question, ‘Is all well with you?’ she answered, “No. What can
be well with a woman who has lost her honor? In your bed, Collatinus, is the impress of another man. My body only
has been violated. My heart is innocent, and death will be my witness. Give me your solemn promise that the
adulterer shall be punished – he is Sextus. It is he, who last night, came as my enemy pretending to be your friend
and took his pleasure of me. That pleasure will be my death – and his, too, if you are men.’
The promise was given and one after another tried to comfort her. They told her she was helpless, and therefore
innocent; that Tarquin alone was guilty. It was the mind, they said, that sinned, not the body; without intention there
could never be guilt.
“What is due to him,” Lucretia said, “is for you to decide. As for me, though I am innocent of fault, I will take my
punishment. Never shall Lucretia provide an example for unchaste women to escape what they deserve.” With these
words she drew a knife from under her robe, drove it into her heart, and fell forward, dead.
Her father and husband were overcome by grief. While they stood weeping helplessly, Brutus drew the bloody knife
from Lucretia’s body, and holding it before him, cried: “By this girl’s blood – none more chaste till a tyrant wronged
her – and by the gods, I swear that with sword and fire, and whatever else can lend strength to my arm, I will pursue
Tarquin the Proud, his wicked wife, and all his sons, and never again will I let them or any other man be King in
Rome.”
With these words, Brutus put the knife into Collatinus’ hands. All looked at him in astonishment; a miracle had
happened – he was a changed man. He was no longer a half-wit. Obedient to his command, they swore an oath.
Grief was forgotten in their sudden surge of anger, and when Brutus called upon them to make war they prepared
themselves.
Lucretia’s body was carried from the house into the public square. Crowds gathered, as crowds will, to gape – and
the sight was unexpected enough, and horrible enough, to attract them. Anger at the criminal brutality of the king’s
son and sympathy with the father’s grief stirred every heart; and when Brutus cried out that it was time for deeds not
tears, and urged them, like true Romans, to take up weapons against the tyrants who had dared to treat them as
enemies, not a man among them could resist the call. The boldest spirits offered themselves at once for service; the
rest soon followed. Lucretia’s father was left to protect their town, Collatia. Guards were posted to prevent news of
the rising from reaching the palace, and, with Brutus in command, the armed citizens began their march on Rome. In
the city, the first effect of their appearance was confusion, but the sight of Brutus, and others of equal distinction at
the head of the mob, soon convinced the people that this was no riot.
The horrible story of Lucretia had no less effect in Rome than in Collatia. In a moment the Forum was packed and
there, throwing off the mask under which he had concealed his true character and feelings, Brutus made a speech
painting in vivid colors the brutal lust of Sextus, the rape of the innocent Lucretia and her pitiful death, and the
sadness of her father, for whom the cause of her death was even worse than the death itself.
He went on to speak of the king’s tyrannical behavior and of the sufferings of the common people. Doubtless he told
them of other things brought to his mind in the heat of the moment, but a mere historian can hardly record all of
them.
The effect of his words was immediate; the people took fire, and were brought to demand the end of the king’s
authority and the exile of Tarquin and his family.
When news of the rebellion had reached him, the king immediately started for Rome to restore order. Brutus got
wind of his approach, and changed his route to avoid meeting him, finally reaching the army almost at the same
moment as Tarquin arrived at Rome. Tarquin found the city gates shut against him. Brutus the Liberator was
welcomed by the troops, and Tarquin’s sons were kicked out of the camp. Sextus fled to Gabii – but his record there
of robbery and violence had made him many enemies, and they now took their revenge and assassinated him.
Tarquin the Proud had reigned for twenty-five years. The whole period of monarchical government, from the
founding of Rome to liberation was 244 years. After the liberation, two Consuls were elected by the popular vote.
The voting was by ‘centuries,’ according to the classification of Servius Tullius. The first two Consuls were Lucius
Brutus and Lucius Collatinus.
After telling the story of the rape of Lucretia, Livy continues his history with the story of the early days of the
Roman Republic.
From now on I will tell the history of a free nation governed by magistrates elected every year and not subject to one
man but to the law. The liberty of Rome was especially welcome because of the character of the last king, Tarquin
the Proud. The earlier kings helped the city in many ways. They were all founders of Rome and it cannot be doubted
that Brutus, who made a great name for himself by getting rid of Tarquin, would have harmed his country if he had
gotten rid of one of the earlier kings.
In those earlier days the people could not have ruled themselves. Without education, think of what would happen if
they had complete freedom! Not kept back by the power of the king they would have set sail on the stormy sea of
democracy blown by the wind of clever speakers and fighting for power with the nobles of the city before any real
sense of community had time to grow. That sense of community, the only true patriotism, comes slowly and springs
from the heart. It comes from respect for the family and love of the land. Liberty soon would have been a disaster.
Rome would have been torn apart by civil war before we had ever reached political maturity which was made
possible by long quiet years under kings. It was monarchy which nursed our strength and enabled us to produce the
fruit of liberty which only an adult nation can enjoy.
The first step toward political equality in Rome was the fact that the Consuls were magistrates elected every year.
They were limited not in their power but in their time of power. The earliest Consuls had the full power of a king.
Brutus’ first act was to make the people, while the taste of liberty was still fresh on their tongues, swear a solemn
oath to never again allow any man to be king in Rome, hoping by this oath to prevent any attempt to bring back the
monarchy. He then turned his attention to strengthening the Senate, the council of nobles whose numbers had been
cut down by the murders carried out by Tarquin. For this purpose he included leading non-nobles and established its
number at 300. This action was a wise one and it made the nobles and the non-nobles get along better.
Even though the monarchy was abolished, everyone in Rome knew that war with the Tarquin family was sure to
come, but no one expected the way it actually came. It was treason within the city that nearly cost Rome its liberty.
The treason began with a group of young aristocrats who had enjoyed life under the monarchy. Under this new
republic they missed the freedom to do as they pleased and began to complain; what might be liberty for others was
more like slavery for them. “A king,’ they argued, ‘was, after all, a human being. There was a chance of getting
from a king what one wanted, rightly or wrongly. Under a monarchy there was room for bending the rules. A king
could be angry but a king could forgive. He knew the difference between an enemy and a friend. Law did not. Law
had no ears. Law was an excellent thing for weaklings but it was worse than useless for the strong. Law reduced
everyone to the condition of mediocrity.”
Now it just so happened at about this time that some friends of Tarquin arrived in Rome. Their purpose was to
recover the property of the Tarquins. No mention was made of the Tarquins returning.
This matter was brought before the Senate and was debated there. In the meantime, Tarquin’s friends visited the
homes of many noble Romans and asked them if they would be willing to betray the city of Rome to Tarquin by
opening the gates during the night. One family, called the Vitelli, was the first to be given this job. Now a sister of
the Vitelli had married Brutus, and their two sons, Titus and Tiberius, both young men, were persuaded by their
uncles to play a part in the conspiracy. Thus the sons of Brutus the Liberator, the sons of the Consul, agreed to
treason.
Meanwhile, the majority in the Senate had voted to return the property of the Tarquins to them. Tarquin’s
ambassadors were told to wait for a few days in order to collect the property of the family. During this time some
nobles met secretly with Tarquin’s ambassadors who asked for letters swearing that the nobles would support
Tarquin when he came. These nobles, now co-conspirators, allowed themselves to be persuaded. Letters were
written and signed; letters which were intended to prove their good faith to Tarquin proved, in the end, their treason
to Rome.
The day before the ambassadors were set to leave Rome, they met with the counter-revolutionaries for supper in the
home of the Vitelli. During the evening, they sent the servants away from the room, and thinking that they were
alone, began talking over the details of their plot. Unluckily for them, however, a slave overheard what they were
saying. Now, this slave had already guessed what was going on and was waiting for the conspirators to give
Tarquin’s ambassadors the letters. He knew these letters were proof of the treason to the republic. As soon as he saw
the letters exchanged, he told the Consuls. The Consuls at once left home to arrest the criminals. The plot was found
out and care was taken to capture the letters. The traitors were imprisoned.
The question of the Tarquin’s property was brought up in the Senate for reconsideration. This time, the Senate was
angry and refused to give it back. When all the property of the Tarquins had been distributed among the people, the
traitors received their sentence and their punishment.
It was a memorable scene, for Brutus was the Consul, and the consular office gave the father the duty of putting his
own sons to death. The condemned criminals were bound to the stake. All were young men of the noblest blood in
Rome, but only the Consul’s sons drew the eyes of the spectators. There was pity for their punishment and greater
pity for the crime that had brought it upon them. In every heart there was sorrow for such treason.
These young men, in the very year Rome was liberated by their fathers’ hand and when the newly created
consulship had gone first to a member of their own family, betrayed the entire population of Rome, high and low
alike, to a man who had once been a tyrant and who now was planning the destruction of their city.
The Consuls took their seats and the officers were ordered to carry out the sentence. The prisoners were stripped,
whipped, and beheaded. Throughout the pitiful scene, all eyes were on the father’s face. A father’s grief was plainly
to be seen there.
After the execution, the slave who had told the Consul of the plot was rewarded. In addition to a gift of money, he
was given his freedom and the rights of a citizen.
News of the discovery of the conspiracy and of the execution of the revolutionaries had a great effect on Tarquin.
Disappointed by the failure of his plan, he was filled with violent anger toward Rome. The way of treachery had
failed. He turned now to his only other choice: open war. For this purpose, he gathered the Etruscans, the ancient
enemies of the Romans, to march on the city. With an Etruscan army marching on Rome the Consuls went out to
meet it. Brutus led the cavalry; the other Consul was in command of the infantry.
The enemy’s army was similar. The cavalry was under the command of the king’s son, Arruns, while Tarquin
himself followed with the infantry. When the enemy forces were still some distance apart, Arruns recognized Brutus
and coming near enough he shouted, “There is the man who drove us from our country. Now I will avenge the insult
to a king.” Spurring his horse, he made straight for the Consul. Brutus saw the danger.
In those days, a general was expected to play his part in the actual fighting, and therefore Brutus eagerly accepted
the challenge. The two met with extreme violence, each without a thought for his own safety and hoping only to
strike his enemy down. Such weight was behind their collision that the spear of each drove clear through the
opponent’s shield, deep into his body, and both fell dying to the ground.
Despite the death of Brutus, the Roman army was victorious. Brutus was given a great funeral, but an even greater
honor to him was the nation’s sorrow. The women of Rome mourned him for a year, as they would for a father. It
was their special thanks for the way he had stood up for a woman’s honor.
After their defeat, the Tarquins took refuge at the court of Lars Porsena, the king of Clusium. They made every
attempt to win his support, especially by warning him of the danger that would come from letting the Romans set up
a republic. “Getting rid of kings,” they said, “might well become a common practice. Liberty was an attractive idea.
Unless monarchs defended their thrones all order would collapse. Nothing would be left in any country but flat
equality. Greatness would be gone forever. Monarchy, the noblest thing in heaven or on earth, was nearing its end.”
Porsena, who feared for his own monarchy, thought that his power in Clusium would be increased by restoring the
monarchy in Rome. Convinced by these arguments, he lost no time in invading Roman territory. Never had there
been so much fear in the Senate.
Clusium was powerful and the fame of Porsena was great. Nor was the danger of Porsena the only cause of fear. The
Roman people itself was hardly less to be feared, for they might well be scared into letting the Tarquins into the city
and buying peace even at the price of tyranny.
Therefore, to secure the support of the common people, the Senate granted them a number of favors. Food was
bought for them. The monopoly of salt, the price of which was high, was taken away from private individuals and
given to the republic. The commons were made free of taxes and the loss of money was made up by the rich who
could afford it. These concessions proved effective, for during the misery of the blockade, the city remained united.
Indeed the poorest in Rome hated the name of the king as much as the nobles did. Wise government in this crisis
gave the Senate greater popularity – in the true sense of the word – than was ever won by a demagogue in later
years.
When the invading army approached the city, the Romans gave up their farms and moved into town. Their weakest
point was their wooden bridge across the Tiber River, and the enemy would have crossed it and entered the city had
it not been for the courage of one man whose name was Horatio, called “the one-eyed”.
A force of Romans was holding guard on the other side of the bridge. But when the enemy approached and began to
attack, they retreated. In fact, they were scared and threw away their weapons. One man, and one man alone, stood
his ground: Horatio. He shouted to his fellow soldiers, “Can’t you see that if you leave your post, all is hopeless? If
you leave the bridge open in your rear, there will soon be enemies in Rome.” Urging them with all his power to
destroy the bridge, he offered to hold up the enemy advance alone. Proudly he took his stand at the outer end of the
bridge, standing there among fellow soldiers who were running to the other side. He prepared himself for combat,
one man against an army.
The advancing enemy stopped, amazed at such reckless courage. Two other Romans, both aristocrats with the fine
military record, were ashamed to leave Horatio alone, and with their support, he beat off the first attack. Soon,
however, he told them to save themselves and leave him, for now the bridge was almost destroyed. Once more
Horatio stood alone with defiance in his eye.
He stood against an entire enemy army, challenging one after another to single combat and laughing at them all,
telling them they were tyrant’s slaves who, caring nothing about their own liberty, were coming to destroy the
liberty of others.
For awhile, they hung back, each waiting for his neighbor to make the first move. Finally shame at the unequal
battle drove them to action. With a fierce cry, they threw their spears at the lonely figure who stood in their way.
Horatio caught the missiles on his shield. Standing strong as ever, he waited for them to attack. The enemy moved
forward and would have knocked him aside by sheer weight of numbers, but their advance was stopped by the
collapse of the falling bridge and the shout of triumph from the Roman soldiers on the other side who had destroyed
it in time.
But now Horatio was left on the wrong side of the river with no bridge on which to cross back to Rome. With a
prayer, he jumped into the Tiber River with all his armor and his sword, and swam back toward Rome. The spears of
the enemy were hitting all around him, but he got safely to the other side where his friends were waiting for him. It
was a noble piece of work – a legend perhaps – one that is destined to be celebrated in story through all the years to
come. For his courage Rome showed its gratitude; a statue of Horatio was placed in the city and he was given as
much land as he could plow in a day.
Having failed in their attempt to capture the city, the enemy now decided to starve the Romans. It was at this time
that the young aristocrat, Caius Mucius, performed his famous act of heroism. Even in her days of slavery under the
kings, Rome had never, in any way, suffered the shame of a siege. Mucius was so ashamed that the Roman people,
having won their liberty, would now be starved that he decided to save his city by one bold move.
His first thought was to proceed in secret into the enemy lines. But there was a risk: if he tried this without any
Roman’s knowledge, and without permission of the Consuls, he would be taken by the Roman grounds as a deserter:
a charge that anybody would believe because things in Rome were so bad. Therefore he changed his mind and spoke
to the Senate.
“I wish,” he said, “to cross the river and enter the enemy’s lines. My object is not to steal but to do something more
important.” The Senate granted him permission to proceed and he started on his way, a knife hidden in his clothing.
Arriving at the enemy camp, he took his stand in the crowd close to where the king was sitting. A great many people
were there because it was payday for the army. By the side of the king sat a secretary who was very busy and was
dressed much like the king, his master. And, because most of the men talked to him, Mucius could not be sure which
was the secretary and which the king. Afraid to ask because his ignorance would give him away, he took a chance
and stabbed the secretary. There was a cry of alarm. He was taken by the guards as he tried to force his way out, and
was dragged back to where King Porsena was sitting. He had no hope. But he never flinched, and when he spoke,
his proud words were those of a man who inspires fear but feels none.
“I am a Roman,” he said, “My name is Caius Mucius. I came here to kill you. I have as much courage to die as to
kill. It is our Roman way to be brave. Nor am I alone in my plan to kill you. Behind me is a long line of Romans
eager for the same honor. ‘Protect yourself’ is my advice, for there will always be an enemy waiting for you. That is
the war we declare against you. You don’t need to fear any battle, army against army. We will fight against you
alone, one of us at a time.”
Porsena was afraid and angry, and ordered the prisoner to be burnt alive unless he revealed the plot against him.
Mucius said, “See how worthless men consider their bodies when they care only for honor.” And then he put his
right hand into the fire that had been made to burn him. He let his hand burn there as if he felt no pain. Porsena was
so amazed by this young man’s courage that he jumped to his feet and ordered the guards to drag him from the fire.
“Go free!” he said, “You have dared to be a worse enemy to yourself than to me. Because I am an honorable enemy,
I grant you pardon, life, and liberty.”
“Since you respect courage,” Mucius replied, “I will tell you in gratitude what you could not force from me by
threats. There are three hundred of us in Rome, all young like myself, and all of noble blood, who have sworn to kill
you in the same way I have tried. It was I who got to go first, the rest will follow until we have killed you.”
The release of Mucius, who was afterwards known as Scaevola, or ‘left-handed man’ because he had lost his right
hand, was quickly followed by the arrival in Rome of ambassadors from Porsena. The first attempt on his life had so
shaken the king that he came forward with a proposal for peace. In return for some hostages, Porsena agreed to leave
Roman land.
Public respect for Mucius’ heroism inspired some women of Rome to copy him. A notable instance is the story of
Cloelia. Cloelia, an unmarried girl, was one of the hostages held behind enemy lines not far from the Tiber River.
One day, with a number of other girls who had agreed to follow her, she escaped the guards and swam across the
river while the enemies on the other side threw spears at her. She brought the girls safely back to Rome and to their
families. Porsena was angry and sent an envoy to Rome to demand Cloelia’s return. He added that the loss of the
other girls did not trouble him. Soon, however, his anger gave way to admiration of Cloelia’s courage, Horatio and
Mucius, he said, were not to be compared with her and he made it clear that, though he would regard the treaty as
broken if she were not returned, he would nevertheless, if the Romans surrendered her, give her back safe and sound
to her family. Both sides acted honorably, and the Romans, as the terms of the treaty required, sent the hostage back.
Porsena not only protected the brave girl but praised her publicly. The Romans paid tribute to Cloelia’s courage by
making a statue of her on horseback and putting it at the top of the Sacred Way.
Over the next dozen years, fighting between Rome and her neighbors continued but the most important event
was probably the death of Tarquin in 496 B.C. With him out of the way, the common people were no longer
afraid of anyone becoming king. The nobles now began to seem less like protectors and more like masters.
Most of all the common people were angry with the law that forced a man who could not pay his debts to
become a slave. Although Rome kept winning on the battlefield, it looked as if a revolution of the people was
only too likely. Indeed, because the common soldiers fought so bravely, some of the nobles felt sorry for them.
Livy tells the story of what happened in 494 B.C.
The soldiers had sworn an oath to obey the Consuls. The Senate thought this oath would probably keep them in line,
so they spread the news that Rome was about to be attacked. At once, the army was under orders to leave Rome.
This was what caused the military to revolt.
One of the rebel’s first ideas was to murder the Consuls and get out of their oaths. But it was pointed out that
committing a crime was no way out. Later, a man called Sicinius persuaded them to ignore the Consuls and to march
to the Sacred Hill. This stands on the other side of the river about three miles from Rome. They had no official
leader, but they put up a wall around their camp and sat quietly.
They had taken nothing out of Rome except what food they needed. For several days they just stayed there. They
caused no trouble and no one did anything to upset them. Meanwhile, the city was in complete panic. Everything
came to a standstill. Without the army to protect them the rest of the common people in Rome were terrified that the
Senate would turn violent.
The Senators, too, were frightened and could not make up their minds whether to attack the rest of the common
people or not. How long would the deserters stay quiet? And suppose some other people declared war on Rome?
The only hope was to get both commoners and nobles back together again. No matter what laws were broken,
somehow they had to have peace in Rome.
A spokesman would have to go and talk to the common people. For this job, the Senate chose Menenius Agrippa.
He had a way with words, and the common people liked him because he had been born one of them. They let him
into the camp and he proceeded to tell them the following story – nothing very hard to understand – but then
speeches were simple in those days.
“Once upon a time, the different parts of the human body did not work together, as they do now. Instead, each part
made up its own mind and had its own opinion. It seemed very unfair to the other parts of the body that they should
work so hard for the belly; after all, the belly just sat there in the middle, doing nothing, enjoying all the nice things
that came along. So they made a plot – the hands weren’t going to take food to the mouth, and even if it did, the
teeth weren’t going to chew it. The waited for the belly to cry for help.
“But while they waited, one by one, all the parts of the body got weaker and weaker. The moral of the story?
“The belly, too, has its job to do. It has to be fed, but it also dies feeding of its own. Supported by the food it
receives, it gives food to the other parts of the body.”
The rebels understood the point. The revolt of the body against the belly was similar to their own revolt against the
Senate. Talks began. From these, the common people got a promise – that they could have magistrates to represent
them in the Senate. These magistrates were to be protected by the most solemn oaths. Men of the Senatorial class
could not be chosen, and the magistrates were to be known as Tribunes of the People.
********
In the next war, the Romans attacked the town of Corioli. Among the Roman officers was a young nobleman called
Caius Marcius, who was later given the name Coriolanus (Co-rio-lay-nus). Although he was young, he was tough.
One day he was on guard. The Roman army was all around Corioli and their attention was focused on the enemy
they had surrounded inside the walls. The last thing they expected was an attack from outside. But some Volscian
troops came up and attacked from the rear. At the same time, a force rushed out from Corioli, catching the Romans
in-between. Marcius collected his bravest soldiers and forced them back into the town and chased them into the
town. He took the chance to set fire to the buildings inside the town. This knocked the heart out of the force of the
Volscians, so they scattered and Corioli was taken. Next year Rome was free of wars, and there were no political
disturbances. Instead, she suffered something much worse.
When the common people had walked out of Rome, the crops had been left with no one to look after them. As a
result, the price of food now began to go up. Then came famine. From the state of things, you would have thought
Rome was under attack. The slaves and the poorer people were starving.
The Romans were able to buy a large quantity of corn from the island of Sicily. This began a serious fight in the
Senate as to what price the common people should pay for this food. To many of the Senators, this seemed the
perfect opportunity to put the common people back in their place and give the Senate a chance to get back the
concessions which they had been blackmailed and bullied into giving away. Of all of the people’s opponents, the
most outspoken was Marcius Coriolanus.
“If they want food at the old price, then they can give the Senate back its control. Why should I put up with common
people as magistrates? Am I a prisoner of war? Have I been rescued from some band of robbers? This insulting
nonsense has gone on long enough. We got rid of King Tarquin, but now the Tribunes are lording it over us. Well
they can walk out any time and take the rabble with them! There’s a clear road to the Sacred Hill! And if they want
food, they can steal it from our land, as they did two years ago. As to the price of grain, it’s their fault for walking
out. But I don’t think we’re in for any more armed walkouts. I think they’ve learned their lesson. We’ll soon see
them back on the land, working, as they ought to.”
Perhaps Coriolanus was right; it is not easy to say. What I do think is that the Senate only had to reduce the price of
food. Then they could have abolished the Tribunes and gotten back all the other various powers they had been
forced to give away.
Even the Senators thought Coriolanus’ speech took too much of a hard line. When the common people heard it,
there was almost a revolution on the spot. Starvation stared them in the face, and there they were, being tricked out
of their food. The only way out was to give in to Coriolanus, to say ‘farewell’ to the Tribunes, to show him that they
were frightened. In their eyes, he had become a monster. What a choice he offered them! Death or slavery!
When he came down the steps from the Senate, there was nearly bloodshed. But the Tribunes promptly called him to
appear before them and this calmed the mob down. Each of them could feel now that Coriolanus was his prisoner.
Each one of them held this public enemy’s life in his hands.
Coriolanus’ first reaction was to show his contempt for the Tribunes. “Your job is to help people, not punish them.
Anyway, you are Tribunes of the People. Senators are outside your control.”
But the mood of the people was very ugly indeed. To save the rest of the Senators, it looked as though Coriolanus
would have to be sacrificed. The Senators called a meeting of the city. From the way they behaved, you would have
thought they, the Senators, were on trial. They begged and pleaded with the people: “If you must find Coriolanus
guilty, then guilty let him be. But please, give him to us to deal with. After all, he is only one citizen, one Senator
out of many.”
The day for the trial came. Coriolanus did not come. At that, any idea of pardoning him was forgotten. In his
absence, he was found guilty of treason – and banished. He went to join the Volscians, the enemies of Rome, full of
angry threats against the city.
The Volscians gave Coriolanus a friendly greeting. In fact, the longer he stayed, breathing fire and fury against
Rome, the more popular he became. With the Volscians behind him, Coriolanus marched on Rome. In the area
around the city, he threw out the Roman settlers. He liberated the land and handed it over to the Volscians. He then
captured four towns the Romans had only recently taken, including Corioli, and then he captured even more towns.
Raiding parties went out to smash up the Roman farms.
Coriolanus made sure the raiders spared any farms belonging to noblemen. Perhaps this was to get back at the
common people – or perhaps he just wanted to stir up class warfare. Anyway, this certainly happened. The common
people were angry enough as it was. The Tribunes now began to make complaint after complaint and do all they
could to make the common people angry at the nobles. The only thing that kept this hatred from getting out of
control was the threat from Coriolanus and the Volscians outside. As usual, the common danger ended political
feuds. However, there was one point on which the two parties stood firmly opposed. The Senate and the Consuls
were quite sure that war was the only answer. The common people refused to consider it.
One day, when the Consuls were out reviewing the troops and giving their advice on defending the city, a huge mob
advanced on them shouting ‘we want peace.’ They made the Consuls call a meeting of the Senate and suggested
sending people to Coriolanus to talk. The Senate could see the common people were about to rebel, so they agreed.
The peace mission went to Coriolanus and brought back a tough reply:
“Give the Volscians back the territory you have taken, then peace talks can start, but if you think you can hold onto
it without a fight, I should warn you: the insult Rome has given me is fresh in my mind. You’ll see that banishment
hasn’t crushed me, just made me more determined than ever – Coriolanus”
The Romans sent the same people back to negotiate again. This time Coriolanus did not even let them in the camp.
At this point, the women of Rome came to his mother, Veturia, and to his wife, Volumnia. The two women agreed
to what the others had suggested, namely, for Veturia, old as she was, and for Volumnia, to take Coriolanus’ two
sons and go to the camp and see him. If the men were not going to defend Rome with swords, at least the women
could try with tears.
They reached the camp. Coriolanus was informed that a large crowd of women had come to see him, His first
reaction was to ignore them. Then, one of his aides noticed Veturia, standing between Volumnia and the two boys,
obviously in the greatest distress. Coriolanus said, “Unless my eyes deceive me that is my mother there with my
wife and my children.” Coriolanus sprang to his feet.
He put his arms around his mother, but she turned on him suddenly, in a blaze of anger, “Tell me, before I receive
any kisses from you, are you my enemy or my son? Am I in this camp as your prisoner or as your mother? Is this to
be the reward of my long life and miserable old age to see you first in exile and then as an enemy? To think that you
could plunder this land that fed you! I can imagine how angry you were as you marched to the Roman border. But
when you actually crossed it, didn’t your anger go away? When the walls of Rome were in sight, didn’t a voice
inside you say, ‘Within those walls are my home and my mother, my wife and my children?’ If I had never been a
mother, Rome would not now be in danger. If I had not had a son I could die freely – in a free city. I can sink no
further in misery than this, and you can sink no lower in shame. But whatever I suffer, it won’t be for long. Think of
your wife and children! If Rome falls, what have they to look forward to? An early death or a life of slavery.”
His wife and his sons flung their arms around him. Meanwhile, the other women were all in tears, weeping for
themselves and for Rome. Finally, Coriolanus gave in. He kissed his family and sent them home. Then he took his
army out of Roman territory.
There are several versions of the end of this story. One says that the Volscians never forgave his treachery, and that
they killed him. The oldest version is given by the historian, Fabius. He writes that Coriolanus lived to old age and
he quotes one of Coriolanus’ favorite sayings at the end of his life: ‘Exile is hard to bear when you are old.’
Rome did more fighting in the next thirty years. There was also unrest among the common people, and finally in 461
B.C. mob rioting. They claimed that too much land was in the hands of just a few nobles, and that it was time some
laws were passed to protect the ordinary citizen. As it was, the Consuls were even worse than kings because there
were two of them instead of one. The problems inside Rome were made worse by the growing population.
One of the few men to emerge with honor from the political fighting was Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus. All
his money had gone to pay for his son’s debts. He lived on a tiny farm outside Rome, and he refused to break
the law by running for the Consulship two years in a row. In 458 B.C., one of the Consuls managed to get
himself surrounded by an army of enemies. Five soldiers got through and brought the news to Rome.
This was the last thing the Romans expected. From the terror and confusion it caused, you would have
thought it was the city that was surrounded, not just an army. The other Consul was ordered to present
himself, but it soon became clear that he was not the man for a job like this. What was needed was a dictator.
Everyone agreed it had to be Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus.
Now I would ask for the attention of those numerous people who imagine that money is everything in this world,
and that rank and ability are inseparable from wealth: let them observe that Cincinnatus, Rome’s last hope and
defense, was at that moment working on his land – a farm of three acres. This is where the messengers from the
Senate found him, digging maybe, or plowing – anyway, hard at work in the fields. They exchanged greetings. His
visitors then asked him to put on his toga and hear the Senate’s instruction. It was a matter of importance, they said,
for his future and Rome’s as well. He was very surprised and asked if everything was alright. Then, he told his wife
to run to the cottage and fetch his toga. She did so, and when he had wiped off the dust and sweat, he put it on.
Immediately, the messenger congratulated him on his appointment as Dictator. They explained the danger the army
was in and asked him to come with them to Rome. Back in the city there were crowds to welcome him – his three
sons, other relatives, friends and most of the Senators. They went with him to his townhouse. The rest of the Roman
people also turned out, but they were not nearly so happy – for them, any dictator was too powerful – and they were
afraid Cincinnatus would use his powers against them.
That night, a watch was set in the city, but nothing else was done. At dawn, Cincinnatus came into the forum and
gave his orders. The law courts would be shut and so would shops all over the city. There would be no private
business of any kind. All men of military age were to go to the Camp of Mars before sunset. They were to bring
five days supply of cooked food and twenty stakes. While they’re collecting these and getting their equipment ready,
those too old to join up would help by seeing to their food.
There was instant activity. In the hunt for stakes they were taken from anywhere they could be found. No one
objected. The men came and Cincinnatus took charge of the Legions. Then they set off on their march in a formation
which could be used for fighting, if need be. By midnight, they reached the enemy camp. ‘Tell the men to dump all
their packs in a single pile,’ said Cincinnatus. ‘They’re to keep just their weapons and stakes and then fall back into
the line.’ They did so, and Cincinnatus placed them in a circle around the enemy camp, without having to move
anyone out of his marching position. The orders were to wait for a signal and then raise a battle cry. After that, they
were to start digging where they stood and sticking in their stakes. The signal came, and the plan went into action.
Shouting broke out all around and the noise carried into the enemy’s camp. The enemy was terrified, but the
Consul’s army was delighted; they could hear the Romans shouting – help had arrived! Without waiting for others,
the sentries of the surrounded Roman army moved into the attack. Their commander realized, ‘That shouting must
mean they haven’t only got into position, they are actually on the move and probably on the enemy’s outer defenses
by now. Arm yourselves, men, and follow me!’
In the battle that followed, the enemy found the two Roman armies, in front and in back, too much for them.
Cincinnatus spared their lives, and let them go. When the Romans took over the camp there was plenty of
everything. Cincinnatus turned it all over to his own men. The commander of the surrounded Roman army had to
make do with criticism:
“You needn’t expect any enemy property to come your way,” said Cincinnatus “considering you were nearly enemy
property yourselves. As for you, until you show signs of behaving like a Consul, you will remain as my
second-in-command.”
The general promptly resigned his Consulship and stayed with the army as ordered. His men were quite happy to
serve under a man of Cincinnatus’ qualities. Any shame they felt was far outweighed by gratitude. To prove this,
they gave him a solid gold wreath, weighing a pound, and, when he finally left them, they called him their savior.
In Rome, a meeting of the Senate was called, as they invited Cincinnatus to bring his army inside the city for a
Triumph. In front of the dictator’s chariot came the enemy leaders and the Roman flags. Behind came the victorious
army carrying the spoils of war. They say that every house had a table outside it piled with food for the cheering
crowd that joined the procession. It was like one big party. Then, Cincinnatus resigned. He had taken on the job for
six months. He left after just fifteen days.
Within a few years, Rome had won a leading position in central Italy in wars fought against her Italian
neighbors, mostly because the Romans knew what sort of war to expect. They also knew what sort of men
their opponents were and what sort of treatment they would get if they were captured.
The Gauls provided their first struggle with the unknown. They were a tribe forming part of a much larger
population group known as Celts. The Celts had a common language. They lived north of the Mediterranean,
in an area stretching from Spain, through France, and along the Danube River to the Black Sea. Once again,
the source is Livy.
One day, a common man called Marcus came to the Tribunes with a strange story:
“Last night I was walking along the streets. Suddenly, there was a silence, and then a voice came to me: ‘Go and tell
your rulers that the Gauls are coming!’”
Now, this man Marcus was a nobody, and the Tribunes just laughed. The Gauls lived a long way north and were
unknown. Though the Romans chose to ignore this warning, the wheels of fate were beginning to turn. In fact, the
Romans went further than simply ignoring it. They exiled from Rome the one man they could rely on: Marcus
Furius Camillus.
One of the Tribunes of the People had accused Camillus of corruption over his handling of war plunder. Moreover,
they did this just after Camillus had lost his young son. Camillus held a meeting at his house for all his local friends
and asked what they felt about this charge against him. They replied:
‘If you’re fined, we’ll pay the fine, no matter how big it is. But we can’t pretend you’re innocent.’
So he went into exile. But before he did, he prayed. ‘If I am innocent, and this charge is false, may Rome pay for her
ingratitude, and soon! May she beg to have me back again!’
In his absence, Camillus was fined. He, if anyone, might have prevented Rome from being captured. But now that
he was gone, disaster began to move in upon the city. A message was brought to Rome from some neighbors to the
north. Would the Romans come and help them fight off the Gauls?
The neighbors were frightened, facing a strange enemy looking like nothing they had ever seen before. Even the
weapons of the Gauls were strange.
The Senate refused to send an army. Instead, they sent negotiators to the Gauls. This was their message:
‘The city that you are surrounding is an ally and friend of Rome. They have never caused you any trouble or given
you any reason to attack them, and if it comes to the point, we shall defend the town by force. But we would much
rather avoid bloodshed altogether if we can, and make your acquaintance as friends.’
The Gauls replied:
We have never heard of Rome. But, we’re quite willing to believe it is a powerful city, otherwise this city
wouldn’t have asked for your help in their present trouble. You say you would rather help your friends by talking
than by fighting. Well, we’re not ones to look down on peace, but we want land. Now, this town here has more land
than she needs. If she will give us some, the matter is settled. But, if not, peace is impossible. And we would like an
answer while you Romans are still here. Then, if the answer is ‘no’ you can see us in action and go home afterwards
and tell them all that the Gauls are the best soldiers on earth.
“This is your idea of justice, is it,” replied the Romans, “saying to people with land, ‘hand it over or else!’? What are
you doing here anyway?”
“Force is our justice,” the Gauls replied, “and force is the only thing that counts.”
When a Gaul is angry, there is no holding him back. With flags flying, they marched south as fast as they could.
Citizens armed themselves in terror and farmers came running inside the walls for protection. But this immense
mass of men and horses did not stop to attack them. As they passed, the cry could be heard among the Gauls: “To
Rome.”
The Romans got some sort of army together as quickly as they could, but had gone only a few miles before they met
the enemy. To the front, to the left, to the right, the whole place was swarming with Gauls. And as they are noisy by
nature, the air was thick with screams and yells.
Outnumbered by an unknown enemy, the Romans forgot their courage and ran away. They saved their skins and ran.
None of them was killed fighting. They were killed from behind as they tried to retreat. Most of the army fled to the
west but the rest came to Rome and took refuge in the Citadel. They did not even bother to shut the outer gates.
The speed of it all left the Gauls quite stunned. They stood around wondering what happened. Was it a trap? But
there were no Romans around. So, at last, they began to march, and just before sunset, they reached the walls of
Rome. They sent some cavalry ahead to look around. The gates were not closed, there were no guards, and there
were no soldiers on the walls. For the second time that day, they were stunned. They were also nervous about
entering an unknown city in the dark. So, they sent another party out to investigate the walls and the rest of the gates
and to try to find out what plans, if any, the Romans had. But there were no Romans to be found – they were hiding
in the Citadel.
Now, most of the Roman army had gone westwards. As a result, everyone thought that the ones who had returned to
Rome were the only survivors. Almost the whole city gave way to mourning, as much for those who were dead, as
for those who were still alive. But the sorrows of private citizens soon gave way when the news broke that the Gauls
had arrived in Rome. Indeed, before long, the Romans could see groups of them roaming about outside the walls and
hear their howls and laughter.
The Romans waited for the attack. When the Gauls had first arrived they asked, “Why else are they here? They’re
bound to attack before it gets dark. They are playing on our fear, leaving the attack until midnight.” The whole city
was weak with fear by and with the dawn came the Gauls and what was feared turned into fact.
Even so, this period of night and day found a very different Rome from the one whose army had made such a
cowardly escape. True, there was no question of defending the whole city with a small handful of men. Instead, it
was decided to send all the able-bodied men and Senators with the women and children up to the fort on Capitol
Hill. As long as they were supplied with weapons and food, they could hold out there.
So Rome concentrated on the three essentials: The Capitol, the Senate, and her army. If she could save these three
from the destruction that was all about her, then it was a small sacrifice to leave the old men down in the city.
They did not have long to live in any case. To get the common people to accept this decision, the older members of
the Senate, Rome’s leaders in peace and war, publicly agreed to join them. “We shall die side by side with you.
These bodies of ours can no longer fight to defend our city. They shall not eat the food of those who can.” This was
the sort of comfort the old men gave themselves in the face of death. Then, on their way to the Capitol, they turned
to encouraging the young men.
For three hundred and sixty years, Rome had never lost a war. Now, her future, if any, lay in the courage of this
small band. The moment came for the two groups to part, one bearing Rome’s hope and strength – one choosing to
die as the city fell. It was a sad scene, made worse by women running about and crying. Should they go with their
husbands? Or their sons? They pleaded with their men folk to make this terrible decision for them. In the end, most
of them went with their sons up to the Capitol.
Obviously, from the military point of view, the fewer non-combatants on the hill, the better. So, no one actually
encouraged them. At the same time, no one had the heart to try and stop them. The summit of the Capitol is very
small in area, space and food were limited. So, another large crowd, mostly of common people began to stream out
of Rome, heading for the Janiculum Hill. From here, some set out to wander the countryside. Others went to towns
nearby. They had no leaders. For them, Rome was a thing of the past. Each man had to make his own future.
Preparations for defending the Capitol were more or less complete. The old men were back in their homes waiting
for the Gauls and certain death. Some of them, in the past had presided over public games. Now, they waited to die,
wearing their best clothes to remind them of a time when they had been powerful and respected men in Rome.
There, they sat, in their front yards.
The Gauls entered the city the next day. They showed no signs of anger. They had the whole night to cool down
from the heat of the battle, not that they had been in danger of defeat for a moment. And, now, they were taking
Rome without a hand raised against them. The gate was open, and as they made for the Forum, they looked about
them, at temples, and at the Capitol from which came the only signs of Roman resistance.
After posting a guard to make sure the Romans did not come charging down on them, they wandered about the city,
every man for himself. There was no one in the streets to stop them. And looting began in the first houses they came
to. Some Gauls headed straight for the suburbs thinking that the houses there would be stuffed with treasure. But
everything there was so quiet, that they were frightened the Romans had some trap for them. Keeping close together,
they came back to the Forum and the area around it.
The common people’s houses were shut and the Gauls had no hesitation in breaking down the doors. The nobles’
houses were open, but the Gauls were frightened to enter. As they looked through the doorways at the old men
sitting in their courtyards, a kind of fear came over them. Their robes were more majestic than anything the Gauls
had ever seen on a human being.
The dignity in these calm, stern faces, made them seem superhuman.
For a time, they stood staring at these statue-like figures. Then, one of them went up to a Senator to stroke his beard,
a long one, as the fashion was in those days. The Senator reacted by beating him over the head with his staff.
That was the start of the massacre. The other senators were killed where they sat. When the Gauls had finished with
them, they began to slaughter the rest, while all around, houses were wrecked and set on fire.
From the heights of the Capitol, the Romans looked down on their city swarming with hostile foreigners. Wherever
they looked, some new disaster struck. They were all seized with fear. Their minds, even their eyes, refused to look
at what was happening.
But terrified as they were, they could not drag themselves away from the scene – from the enemy war cries – the
howling of the women and children – the roar of the flames – and the crash of falling buildings. It was as if fortune
had given them grandstand seats for a show called “The Death of Rome.”
Their own bodies were all they had left. To be surrounded at all is a terrible experience. It was worse still for
Romans to be surrounded outside their city and seeing everything they owned in enemy hands.
That night brought no comfort. The looting went on and every moment provided some new horror. In spite of their
desperate situation, their will to resist never collapsed. Even if the whole city was smashed and burnt, however little
food there might be, there was still the hope of freedom and holding onto the Capitol. Every day was the same thing.
Before long, they found themselves getting used to it. They did not care anymore about what they had lost. Instead,
they started thinking about their only hope for the future – their shields and swords.
For some days, the Gauls continued to loot. But, all their burning only reduced Rome to a small group of armed
soldiers. In spite of all they had been through, the Romans had no thought of surrendering. The Gauls would have to
use force. So, they decided to risk a direct attack on the Capitol.
The next day, at dawn, the order went around and the whole Gallic army assembled in the Forum. The war cry was
heard – shields were strapped above their heads. They began to climb. The Romans reacted confidently. All paths up
to the summit were guarded and the best troops were stationed in line with the attack. They let the Gauls come some
way up the slope believing that the higher they climbed, the harder they would fall. About half-way up, the Gauls
paused.
At this minute, the Romans came charging down with all the force of the slope behind them and beat the Gauls,
giving them heavy losses. After this, the Gauls dropped the idea of any sort of direct attack. If force could not
succeed, they would have to use a blockade. This was something that they had not thought about. All the food inside
the city had gone up in fire while the Romans had gathered what was standing in the fields during the last few days.
The Gauls split their army. One part went off plundering the countryside around to feed the other part, which was
now settled down to blockade the Capitol.
Strangely enough, the Gauls had to leave Rome to get their first real taste of Roman courage. Some of these
plundering Gauls who were looking for food came to the place where Camillus was living in exile. He was far more
upset about Rome’s situation than about his own. When he heard the news that some Gauls were coming to the town
he was living in, and that the townsmen were talking about what they should do, Camillus, even though he had never
taken part in any of their meetings, came into their Council and spoke:
“Gentlemen, you have been my friends for many years, and recently my fellow citizens, you took me in when luck
was against me. So please don’t think from the way I have rushed in here that I have forgotten my place in this town.
But this danger threatens us all. In times like this, we must pool our ideas. If ever there was a time for me to say
‘thank you’ for all your kindness, this is it. A war gives me the perfect opportunity to be of service. Warfare was the
area in which I won my reputation in Rome and in warfare I have never been beaten. It was only when peace came
that the Romans turned ungrateful and sent me away. This, gentlemen, is your chance to pay Rome back for all the
help she has given you over the years. It’s also your chance to win fame and glory from the Gauls, this common
enemy. And look at these Gauls coming toward us. They are large men and have a sort of courage – but they are not
steady. Whenever it comes to battle, they look much tougher than they really are. Take this last victory over the
Romans. They walk into an open city and find they can’t even dislodge a tiny handful of men on the Capitol. They
get bored with a blockade and now they are roaming around the countryside. They stuff themselves with food and
wine, and then at the end of the day, they never think of building defenses. They are no better than wild animals!
And now that things have gone so much their way, they are even more careless than usual. Do you want to save your
city and prevent this whole area from becoming another bit of Gaul? The Council answered, “No!” “Very well, then.
As soon as it is dark, get your weapons, every man of you, and follow me. It will not be a battle. It will be a
massacre. I’ll hand them to you sleeping like logs and you can butcher them like cattle. If I fail, you then have my
permission to treat me as the Romans did.”
Not all of those present liked Camillus, but everyone agreed that he was the best general of his time. The meeting
broke up and they went off to get ready.
Then came the signal. Through the dark streets, they came to the city gates where Camillus was waiting. A short
march out of the city brought them, as he had promised, to the Gallic camp. With yells of victory, they attacked.
There was no resistance. The Gauls were killed before they could arm themselves, or even wake up. When the large
group of Romans who had fled to the west after battle with the Gauls heard about Camillus’ success, they sent for
him to make him commander. Everyone agreed that he should be called. But, even in this desperate situation, they
took care to observe the proper formalities. Before sending for Camillus, they would have to consult the Senate in
Rome.
Getting through the enemy lines was now a dangerous job. An energetic man offered to try to reach Rome by
floating down the Tiber on a raft. He landed and took a short cut to the Capitol up a face of rock so steep that the
Gauls had not bothered to guard it. He was taken to the magistrates and delivered the army’s request. The Senate
pronounced: “By the order of the Senate and the people of Rome, Camillus is hereby recalled from exile and named
Dictator, and that the army may have the general they desire.” This message was sent to Camillus. Camillus quickly
began to organize the army.
Meanwhile, the Romans on the Capitol were exhausted and waiting. Hunger could not be conquered by willpower.
Day after day they watched for Camillus and his army. At last, hope as well as food began to fail. When they went
on guard they found that they were almost too weak to lift their weapons. Surrender or some sort of agreement was
the only way out. The Gauls had made it clear enough that they were prepared to abandon the siege for a reasonable
sum of money. The Senate met and agreed with the Gallic chief. They promised one thousand pounds of gold: the
price of a city that would someday rule the world! Such a bargain was disgraceful enough – but that was not the end
of the matter. The weights which the Gauls provided were too heavy. The Romans complained, but Brennus, the
Gallic chief , replied by throwing his sword onto the scales as well. As he did, he uttered words well calculated to
wound the pride of Rome: “Woe to the Beaten!”
But Rome’s freedom was not to be bought with gold. Camillus arrived before this shameful bargain could be agreed
to. He gave the Gauls his orders: “That gold goes back where it came from! And as for you – you may leave.” The
Gauls refused, saying that the gold had been promised to them. “Forget about promises,” replied Camillus, “the deal
was made after I was appointed Dictator. I suggest you prepare for battle!”
He then turned to his own men. “All packs go in a pile there. You will need your swords. Win back your city with
iron, not gold. Everything that has to be won is before your eyes. Your temples! Your wives! Your children! And
your country’s soil is still bearing the scars of war.
Every Roman took up his fighting position. The ground was uneven and broken up by the ruins of the city, but
Camillus used these as well as he could to give his men an advantage. The Gauls were stunned by the suddenness of
it all. They grabbed their weapons and charged wildly, without pausing for thought. Luck was now on the other side.
This time, it was the Gauls who were running away. There was a second, more traditional kind of battle eight miles
out of the city. Again, Camillus’ leadership was too much for the Gauls. Their defeat was complete. Their camp was
taken and not one of them survived even to bring news of their defeat. Rome was saved and Camillus returned to the
city in Triumph. The Romans called Camillus “Romulus,” “the Father of his Country” and “The second founder of
Rome”.