Preface
Titus Livius, the illustrious author of the Roman History, descended from a noble family in Rome, and was born at Patavium, now called Padua, in Italy, in the 694th year of Rome, fifty-eight years before the commencement of the Christian ?ra.
Like many other literary men, his life was contemplative, rather than active; very few particulars, therefore, concerning him, have come down to us. He resided at Rome for a considerable time, where he was much noticed, and highly honoured, by Augustus; to whom he was previously known, it is said, by some writings which he had dedicated to him. Seneca, however, is silent upon the subject of this supposed dedication, though he mentions the work itself, which, he says, consisted of moral and philosophical dialogues.
He appears to have conceived the project of writing his history, immediately upon his settling at Rome; or, perhaps, he came thither for the purpose of collecting the necessary materials for that great work.
Augustus appointed him preceptor to his grandson Claudius, afterwards emperor. But he seems not much to have attended to the advantage which might have resulted from so advantageous a connection, and to have occupied himself, entirely, in the composition of his history; parts of which, as they were finished, he read to Augustus and Mac?nas.
Distracted with the tumult, and disgusted, it may be, with the intrigues and cabals of Rome, he sought retirement and tranquillity in the beautiful country, and delightful climate, of Naples. Here, enjoying uninterrupted literary ease and quiet, he continued his labour, and finished his work, comprising, in an hundred and forty-two books, the history of Rome, from the foundation of that city to the death of Drusus, containing a period of seven hundred and forty-three years, ending nine years before the birth of our Saviour. Having completed this great work, he returned to pass the remainder of his days in his native country, where he died, 17, at the age of seventy-five years.
What family he left behind him, is not known. Quintilian, however, mentions that he had a son, for whose instruction he drew up some excellent observations on rhetoric; and there is also reason to suppose that he had a daughter, married to Lucius Magius, an orator, who is advantageously spoken of by Seneca.
How highly his works were esteemed, and himself personally honoured and respected, may be gathered from the manner in which he is mentioned by many ancient authors. Tacitus tells us,* that “T. Livius, that admirable historian, not more distinguished by his eloquence than by his fidelity, was so lavish in his praise of Pompey, that Augustus called him the Pompeian: and yet his friendship for him was unalterable.” The younger Pliny informs us,* that “a certain inhabitant of the city of Cadiz was so struck with the illustrious character of Livy, that he travelled to Rome on purpose to see that great genius; and as soon as he had satisfied his curiosity, returned home.”
Of the hundred and forty-two books, of which the history of Rome originally consisted, thirty-five only have come down to us. The contents of the whole, the hundred and thirty-seventh and eighth excepted, have been preserved; compiled, as some, without any good reason, have supposed, by Livy himself; while others, with equal improbability, have asserted them to be the work of Lucius Florus, author of a portion of Roman history. Whoever may have been the compiler, a fact as useless, as it is now impossible to ascertain, they are highly curious; and although they contain but a faint outline, yet they serve to convey some idea of the original, and greatly excite regret at the loss of so large a portion of this valuable work.
The parts of this history which we now possess, are, the first decade: for it appears, from his having prefixed separate prefatory introductions to each portion, that the author had divided his work into distinct parts, consisting each of ten books. The first decade commences with the foundation of the city of Rome, and rapidly runs over the affairs of four hundred and sixty years. The second decade is lost: it comprised a period of seventy-five years; the principal occurrence in it was the first Punic war, in which the Romans, after a long and arduous struggle, were finally victorious. The third decade is extant: it contains a particular and well-detailed account of the second Punic war; the longest, as our author himself observes, and the most hazardous war, the Romans had ever been engaged in; in the course of which they gained so many advantages, and acquired so much military experience, that no nation was ever able, afterwards, to withstand them. The fourth decade contains the Macedonian war against Philip, and the Asiatic against Antiochus. These are related at considerable length, insomuch that the ten books comprise a space of twenty-three years only. Of the fifth decade, the first five books only remain, and these very imperfect. They give an account of the war with Perseus king of Macedonia, who gains several advantages against the Romans, but is at length subdued, and his kingdom reduced to the form of a Roman province; of the corruption of several Roman governors in the administration of the provinces, and their punishment; and of the third Punic war, which lasted only five years.
Of the remaining books, it has been already said, that the contents only have been preserved; and they serve to show us the greatness of our loss, the greatest literary loss, perhaps, owing to the ravages of the time. Livy had employed forty-five books in the history of six centuries; but so many, so various, and so interesting were the events, which he had before him for selection, in the latter period of the Republic, that it took him above double that number to relate the occurrences of little more than an hundred and twenty years. From the admirable manner in which he has written the former part of his History, we may judge of what must have been the merit of this latter part, which fails us, unfortunately, at a most remarkable period, when rational curiosity is raised to the highest pitch. Nor can we doubt the excellence of its execution, when we consider how much better, and how much more copious his materials must have been; for, besides what he could draw from his own personal knowledge, having lived among, and conversed familiarly with, the most considerable men in the empire, who were themselves principal actors in the important transactions which he relates, he had access to the best possible written materials; to the memoirs of Sylla, C?sar, Labienus, Pollio, Augustus, and many others which were then extant. What would we not give for the picture, finished by so able a hand, from the sketches of such masters? What delight would it not afford us, to see the whole progress of a government from liberty to servitude?—the whole series of causes and effects, apparent and real, public and private?—those which all men saw, and all good men opposed and lamented, at the time; and those which were so disguised to the prejudices, to the partialities, of a divided people, and even to the corruption of mankind, that many did not, and that many could pretend they did not, discern them, till it was too late to resist them? I own, says a noble author,* I should be glad to exchange what we have of this History, for what we have not.
Much as our historian was admired, and highly as he was respected, yet he was not without his detractors. He was charged with patavinity in his writings. The first person who brought this charge against him, seems to have been Asinius Pollio, a polite and elegant writer, and a distinguished ornament of the age of Augustus.*
In what this patavinity consisted, no ancient author having defined it, it is not now easy to say; and, accordingly, it is a matter which has been much disputed. Some will have it, that it was a political term, and that it signified an attachment to the Pompeian party: others contend that it meant a hatred to the Gauls; that it was symbolical of some blameable particularity, they know not what. The more probable opinion, however, seems, from the term itself, to be, that it signified some provincial peculiarity of dialect. Ancient Italy, like modern Italy, had its differences, not of idiom merely, but of language, in every different province. In proportion as their language varies, at this day, from the purity of the Tuscan dialect, they become almost unintelligible to each other: with difficulty can a Venetian and a Neapolitan converse together; that is, the people: for the well-educated in every country learn to speak and write the dialect of the metropolis; although, if brought up in their own provinces, however nearly their language may approach the purity of that of the capital, yet it will ever retain some tincture of provinciality.
If this supposition of the meaning of the word patavinity be right, the fact, upon such authority as that of Pollio, must be admitted; although in what, precisely, it consisted, it is not, at present, perhaps, possible to determine. Much has been written upon the subject, which in reality seems now to be an idle inquiry; and, as a dissertation upon this matter could afford neither instruction nor entertainment to the mere English reader, for whose use the following translation is principally intended, we shall dismiss the subject with observing, that what Quintilian has not told us, no modern scholar will ever, it is probable, have penetration enough to discover: and we may be also allowed to suppose that, whatever these peculiarities may have been, as that great critic has not thought them worth pointing out, they cannot have been either very numerous, or of very material consequence.
Nor will, perhaps, another objection, made by modern critics, be deemed of much greater weight. They dislike, it seems, the plan of his History, and they found that dislike, chiefly on the speeches which he so frequently introduces, which, they contend, it is not probable could have been spoken upon the occasions alleged; and therefore they pronounce them to be violations of truth. That many of them were not spoken by the persons to whom they are ascribed, nor upon the occasions alleged, must be admitted: but they do not, upon that account, violate the truth of history. Nobody can suppose that our author ever meant to impose upon his readers, and to make them believe that what he has given us, as said by the different persons whom he introduces, was really said by them: the supposition is absurd. He could only mean to vary his style; and to enliven and embellish matter, which, if continued in the even and unvaried tone of narration, would be sometimes heavy and tedious; making these supposed speeches a vehicle for conveying, and that in a very lively manner, the arguments for and against a proposed measure; and he thus often brings into them a relation of facts, chiefly facts of remoter times, and much more agreeably than he could have interwoven them into his narrative, which should always be progressive. Modern historians, it is true, have rejected this plan: but Livy is not reprehensible, because his ideas of historic structure were different from theirs. He chose rather to conform himself to a custom which prevailed very generally before his time, and which succeeding writers, of great taste and judgment, have approved and adopted. The conduct of Livy, in this respect, if necessary, might be justified by the example of Herodotus, Xenophon, Polybius, Sallust, Tacitus, and others, whose histories abound with speeches. These speeches frequently give a more perfect idea of the character of the supposed speaker, than could easily have been done by mere description; and it must be acknowledged, that the facts which they sometimes contain, would, if thrown into formal narrative, with episodes and digressions, lose much of their animation and force, and consequently much of their grace and beauty.
When we consider the use of such speeches, we shall not perhaps feel inclined to give them up, although many are to be held as mere fictions; contrived, however, with much ingenuity, and for the laudable purpose of conveying useful reflections and salutary admonitions. But though it be admitted, that several of them are fictitious, yet it may be contended that they are not all so. Many of those delivered in the senate, in popular assemblies, in conventions of ambassadors, and other the like occasions, are most probably genuine; and, if they are so, they furnish us with very curious specimens of ancient eloquence. Public speakers among the Romans were in the habit of publishing their speeches upon particular occasions; and others, delivered upon important occurrences, would, doubtless, be noted down, and circulated, by those who were curious about, and probably interested in, the subjects of them. We know that, in our own times, the substance of speeches in the British parliament, and other assemblies, has often been accurately collected, and carefully preserved; and we may, therefore, reasonably suppose that speeches in the Roman senate, upon matters in which the whole community were deeply interested, would be heard with equal attention, and preserved with equal care.
A charge, of a very heavy nature, has been brought against our author, which, were it well founded, would utterly disqualify him from writing a credible history. He is accused of superstitious credulity. That he was of a serious and religious turn of mind is sufficiently apparent from many passages in his history, in which he severely reprehends the licentiousness and profligacy of the times he lived in, and applauds the simplicity of conduct, and sanctity of manners, of ancient days, when “that disregard of the gods, which prevails in the present age, had not taken place; nor did every one, by his own interpretations, accommodate oaths and the laws to his particular views, but rather adapted his practice to them.”* Again, speaking of Spurius Papirius, he describes him as a “youth, born in an age when that sort of learning which inculcates contempt of the gods was yet unknown.”? Numberless passages, to this effect, might be cited; suffice it, however, to observe, that, while reprehending, with strong indignation, the profane, the impious, and the immoral among his countrymen, he omits no opportunity of applauding the virtuous and the good.
But, to be religious is one thing; to be superstitious is another. He has certainly recorded many and monstrous prodigies; to enumerate which would be both tedious and disgusting. As, however, they were not merely the subject of popular tales and vulgar conversation, but the objects of particular attention, noticed always by the magistrates, and even by the senate, whom we frequently find ordering expiations of them, it was his duty, as an historian, to relate them, since they thus made a part of the public transactions of the times. And this he does with great caution; apparently anxious lest he should be supposed to believe in such absurdities, and protesting, as it were, against the imputation of superstition. Thus, upon an occasion where he relates extraordinary prodigies, (more extraordinary, indeed, than in any other part of his history,) he introduces his account of them by saying,—“Numerous prodigies were reported to have happened this year; and the more they were credited by simple and superstitious people, the more such stories multiplied.”* He generally prefaces the mention of all such, with a reserve as to his own belief of them:—“Many prodigies were reported.”? “It was believed that crows had not only torn with their beaks some gold in the capitol, but had even eaten it.”? And again; “Fires from heaven, breaking out in various places, had, as was said,”§ &c. Nor is he at all scrupulous in declaring these numerous prodigies to derive their origin from superstitious weakness; thus,—“So apt is superstitious weakness to introduce the deities into the most trivial occurrences”∥ “The mention of one prodigy was, as usual, followed by reports of others.”? “From this cause arose abundance of superstitious notions; and the minds of the people became disposed both to believe and to propagate accounts of prodigies, of which a very great number were reported.”** “The consuls expiated several prodigies which had been reported.”?? “Several deceptions of the eyes and ears were credited.”?? One is almost tempted to think, that those who charge our author with credulity, had never read him; otherwise, how could they overlook such passages as these, and especially the following, in which he seems aware that such a charge might be brought against him, and labours to obviate it?—“In proportion as the war was protracted to a greater length, and successes and disappointments produced various alterations, not only in the situations, but in the sentiments of men, superstitious observances, and these mostly introduced from abroad, gained such ground among the people in general, that it seemed as if either mankind, or the deities, had undergone some sudden change.”*
From the passages here adduced, and very many others to the same purport might be quoted, it may be confidently pronounced, that our author was not the dupe of those vulgar rumours, those “deceptions of the eyes and ears,” which yet he has thought it his duty to record. And, in truth, it seems as if the people themselves, at least the more enlightened of them, were equally inclined, if established custom would have allowed, to disregard them: “They grew weary,” we are told, “not only of the thing itself, but of the religious rites enjoined in consequence; for neither could the senate be convened, nor the business of the public be transacted, the consuls were so constantly employed in sacrifices and expiations.”? And accordingly, with a view to diminish the reports of these miracles, and the troublesome ceremonies consequent thereupon, the consuls, by direction of the senate, published an edict, that when “on any day public worship should be ordered, in consequence of the report of an earthquake, no person should report another earthquake on that day.”* Indeed, how very little faith the senate really had in omens, prodigies, and auspices, we may learn from a remarkable order made by them, upon receiving from a consul the report of unfavourable omens, in no less than three victims successively sacrificed; “they ordered him,” says the Historian, “to continue sacrificing the larger victims, until the omens should prove favourable.”?
It may be asked,—if Livy, the senate, and very many, perhaps the greater number, of the people, disbelieved these omens and prodigies, why relate them? He answers the question himself; “I am well aware,” he says, “that, through the same disregard to religion, which has led men into the present prevailing opinion, of the gods never giving portents of any future events, no prodigies are now either reported to government, or recorded in histories. But, for my part, while I am writing the transactions of ancient times, my sentiments, I know not how, become antique; and I feel a kind of religious awe, which compels me to consider that events, which the men of those times, renowned for wisdom, judged deserving of the attention of government, and of public expiation, must certainly be worthy of a place in my History.”? And, in truth, it must be allowed, that an account of the religious ceremonies, and the superstitious observances, of different nations at different periods, forms not the least curious chapter in the history of the human mind.
A still heavier charge hath been brought against our author; indeed, the heaviest that can be alleged against an historian; namely, the violation of the first great law of history; which is, not to dare to assert any thing false, and not to suppress any truth.* He who could not be warped by views of private interest, has yet been supposed, from an excess of zeal for the honour and glory of his country, in some instances to have gone beyond the truth, in others to have suppressed it.
It has been already mentioned how highly he was esteemed by Augustus, and that he had even received no inconsiderable marks of favour from him. Yet he does not seem to have courted this esteem, or those favours, by any particular attention on his part; nor to have endeavoured to repay them, by the only return which authors can make, the loading their patrons with perhaps undeserved praises. Although, at the time when he wrote his History, Augustus was in complete possession of the Roman empire, yet he names him but three times, and then but in a slight and cursory manner; not availing himself of the opportunity to heap adulation upon him, but simply giving him that praise to which he was unquestionably entitled. On occasion of shutting the temple of Janus, he takes the opportunity of mentioning, that it had been but twice shut since the reign of Numa; the first time in the consulship of Titus Manlius, on the termination of the first Punic war, and that “the happiness of seeing it shut again, the gods granted to our own times, when, after the battle of Actium, the emperor, C?sar Augustus, established universal peace on land and sea.”* As Augustus was highly vain of this circumstance, had our author’s disposition led him to flatter this master of the world, it would have afforded him an excellent opportunity; as would another occasion, where, speaking of spolia opima, deposited by Cossus in one of the temples, he appeals to the testimony of Augustus C?sar, whom he styles “the founder or restorer of all our temples.”? But above all, he might have found a niche for him, as well as others of his family, when he mentions the distinguished victory gained by Livius and Nero over Hasdrubal.? He relates the affair itself in very splendid terms, and bestows the most exalted praises on the admirable conduct of those victorious generals. He who was thus rigidly tenacious, when private motives, friendship, or interest might have swayed him, is, nevertheless, accused, from national vanity, of having written with partiality; and of having sometimes exaggerated, and sometimes concealed, the truth.
It must be acknowledged that, when the grandeur of the Roman empire presents itself to his mind, he is not always sufficiently reserved in the terms which he uses. Thus, speaking of Cincinnatus,§ so early as the 296th year of Rome, he calls him “the sole hope of the empire of Rome,” at a time when we know that this thus pompously announced empire extended not more than twenty miles beyond the city. And again, not many years after,* he introduces Canuleius boasting of its “eternal duration and immense magnitude.”? When we find him applying such magnificent terms to the Roman state, then in its infancy, we must suppose him to have forgot the period of which he was writing, and to have had present to his mind the splendor and extent to which it had attained at the time when he himself lived and wrote. He even puts the same language into the mouths of foreigners, and of enemies: he makes Hannibal call Rome “the capital of the world,”? at a time when the Romans had not even the whole of Italy in subjection, and no possessions whatever out of Italy, except a part of Sicily and Sardinia. In the same vainglorious boasting strain he tells us,§ that the Romans “were never worsted by the enemy’s cavalry, never by their infantry, never in open fight, never on equal ground.” He seems here not to have recollected, what he afterwards acknowledges,∥ that, in the first battle with Hannibal, “it manifestly appeared that the Carthaginian was superior in cavalry; and, consequently, that open plains, such as those between the Po and the Alps, were unfavourable to the Romans.” Although he thus asserts, in unqualified terms, that the Romans were never worsted in the open field, yet he gives very just and candid accounts, not only of this battle with Hannibal, but of another also against the same commander, and of that of the Allia, against the Gauls, in every one of which the Romans were completely overthrown.
But these, it is probable, should rather be considered as inadvertencies than falsehoods; and, however inclined we may be to overlook or excuse them, we shall not, perhaps, find it so easy to justify some other omissions, or changes, which he has made in his narrative, respecting facts which, if fairly and fully related, would do no honour to his country; or would tend, in some degree, to tarnish the lustre of those celebrated characters which he holds up to our admiration.
Polybius is allowed to be an author of consummate judgment, indefatigable industry, and strict veracity. Livy himself admits that he is entitled to entire credit. He takes extraordinary pains to investigate the causes of the second Punic war, and to determine which of the two nations had incurred the guilt of breach of treaty. He discusses the matter at considerable length;* stating accurately, and carefully examining, the facts and arguments urged on both sides; and brings the matter to this issue,—that, if the war is to be considered as taking its rise from the destruction of Saguntum, the Carthaginians were in the wrong; but by no means so, if the matter be taken up somewhat higher, and the taking of Sardinia by the Romans, and the imposing a tribute upon that island, be included in the account: for that, then, the Carthaginians did no more than take occasion to avenge an injury done them.
Now, how stands the account of this affair, according to Livy?* From this disquisition of Polybius, he carefully selects, and strongly states, every thing which tends to favour the cause of the Romans; but passes over in silence every fact, and every argument, urged by the Greek historian in favour of the Carthaginians; and thus he makes the worse appear the better cause.
It has been urged in defence of Livy, that, in his twelfth book, he gave the account of the affair of Sardinia: and that, if that book had not been lost, it might from thence have appeared, that the conduct of the Romans in that transaction was perfectly justifiable; and that, consequently, what he has suppressed of Polybius’s argument, he has omitted, not so much to favour the cause of his own countrymen, as because he knew the allegations therein to be false. It must, however, be observed, that Polybius was neither a Roman nor a Carthaginian; that he has always been held to be an historian of the highest credit, and the strictest impartiality; that he lived nearer the times he writes of than Livy, and was a most diligent inquirer into the truth of the facts which he relates in his history; that he was by no means unfriendly to the Romans, but the contrary, taking all opportunities to speak of them with the highest praise.
It is not meant here to detract from the merit of Livy as an historian, by the mention of such particulars as these. It may be assumed as a maxim, that no historian of his own country can be, strictly speaking, impartial: he may intend to be so; but the mind will be under an involuntary bias, influenced by some secret inclination, of which he himself may be unconscious; he may believe what he asserts, and yet it may not be true.
Another instance of his partiality to his countrymen may be found in his account of the murder of Brachyllas,* who, he tells us, was made B?otarch, or chief magistrate of the B?otians, “for no other reason, than because he had been commander of the B?otians serving in the army of Philip; passing by Zeuxippus, Pisistratus, and the others who had promoted the alliance with Rome.” That these men, offended at present, and alarmed about future consequences, resolved to take off Brachyllas, and accordingly procured six assassins, who put him to death. In these, and other circumstances, our author perfectly agrees with Polybius, whose account of this whole affair he seems to have almost literally copied; with the omission, however, out of tenderness for the character of Quintius, of a very material circumstance; which is, that the project of murdering Brachyllas was first opened in a conference between Zeuxis, Pisistratus, and Quintius, who told them, that he would not himself do any thing to promote it; but that, if they were disposed to the execution of such a plan, he would do nothing to obstruct it: and he adds, that he directed them to confer upon the matter with Alexamenes, the ?tolian, who was the person, he says, that procured the assassins.
Another, and a very remarkable instance of partiality to the character of his countrymen, we have in his celebrated account of Scipio Africanus; who seems, above all others mentioned in his History, to have engaged his fondest, and, as he himself admits, his partial attention: for when he first introduces him, he does it in the most advantageous manner, as a youth who had scarcely attained to manhood, rescuing his father, who was wounded in a battle with Hannibal. “This,” says he,* “is the same youth who is, hereafter, to enjoy the renown of terminating this war, and to receive the title of Africanus, on account of his glorious victory over Hannibal and the Carthaginians.” He then, in a manner, avows his partiality; for he tells us, that C?lius attributes the honour of saving the consul to a slave, by nation a Ligurian: “but I rather wish the account to be true which gives it to his son; and so the fact is represented by most authors, and generally believed.”
That Scipio was a most accomplished character, eminently distinguished by his military talents, valour, coolness, patience under difficulties, and moderation in victory, of most gentle manners, and a most generous temper, never has been, nor ever will be denied. But, if other writers knew the truth, and have spoken it, he was not that model of absolute perfection which Livy paints him: and perhaps, had he been the cold and unimpassioned stoic, which he describes him to have been, he had deserved less praise than is undoubtedly due to him, when considered, as other authors represent him, of a very different temperament.
That he generously restored a beautiful captive to her parents, and to her intended spouse, Livy and Polybius are agreed; but they differ somewhat in the account of that affair. Polybius tells us,* that a party of Roman youth, having taken captive a damsel of exquisite beauty, brought her to Scipio, whom they knew to be much attached to the sex; and he makes Scipio say to them, that “a more acceptable gift could not have been presented to him, were he in a private station: but that, in his situation of general, he could by no means accept of it.” Livy suppresses entirely the circumstance of his favourite’s amorous disposition: and yet, what he represents him as saying to Allucius, bears so strong a resemblance to his answer, recorded by Polybius, though he gives it a different turn, to accommodate it to his purpose, that we cannot doubt his having had this passage in his eye: “If my thoughts were not totally employed by the affairs of the public, and if I were at liberty to indulge in the pleasurable pursuits adapted to my time of life,”? &c.
That Scipio, with all his perfections, was not that mirror of chastity which Livy is desirous of representing him, we learn, also, from an anecdote related by Valerius Maximus,? who highly praises the amiable temper and patient forbearance of his wife ?milia, “who,” he tells us, “knew of his attachment to a female slave, and yet concealed the fact, that there might be no stain upon so illustrious a character.”
Such are the principal facts alleged to prove our historian’s neglect of veracity in his narration: rigorous, and, it may be, invidious scrutiny, has noted some few more; but they are of little importance: and, as it is not improbable, so it is not unfair to suppose, that the paucity of cotemporary historians may have induced those, who were also predisposed, to believe that to be false, which fuller information might perhaps have proved to be true. Why may we not believe that he had better opportunities of knowing the truth than the Greek historian? He admits Polybius to be an author of credit, and yet he differs from him without scruple: he cannot, then, surely, be thought to mean more than that he was a writer of integrity, who compiled his history with fidelity, according to the best information he was able to obtain: that he did not wilfully falsify any fact, rather than that every fact he relates is strictly and absolutely true. He acknowledges him for his master, but does not conceive himself bound to swear to his words.
Besides, it is but doing justice to our author to observe, that if, in some few, and those not very material instances, he may have deviated from the truth, if he has done so, it is never with an ill-design: if he palliates a fault, or suppresses a fact, it is not so much for the purpose of lessening the reputation, or tarnishing the glory of others, whether nations or individuals, as to aggrandize the character of his own nation. He allows himself in a practice which some of his countrymen have, since his time, carried to a much greater, as well as a more blameable extent, and which has received the name of pious fraud.
But, whatever may be the case, whether our author must lie under the reproach of softening facts in some instances, or even of suppressing them in others, yet will his genius and talents, as an historian, ever be respected. He cannot be denied the merit of having furnished us with a perfect model of historical composition, in the purest and most elegant style; more remarkable for perspicuity of narration, and neatness of expression, than for depth of reasoning, or pomp of diction. Although he seldom digresses, and but rarely indulges in moral observations or philosophical reflections, yet he never loses sight of what he himself lays down in his preface as the great object of history: the furnishing “clear and distinct examples of every line of conduct; that we may select for ourselves, and for the state to which we belong, such as are worthy of imitation; and carefully noting such, as, being dishonourable in their principles, are equally so in their effects, learn to avoid them.”
All that the present writer feels it necessary to say, upon delivering to the public a new translation of so esteemed a work as Livy’s History, is, that it has been the employment, and amusement, of many years,—a very laborious, but not unuseful, occupation: and that, if he be not deceived by self-love, and the partiality of a few friends, who have taken the trouble of looking into the work, it will be found not altogether unworthy of public acceptance.
The translator had intended a much more copious commentary, than that which now accompanies this work; and, in that view, he had prepared several dissertations upon the manners and customs of the Romans; their senate; their laws; their religious rites; their arts of war, navigation, and commerce, &c. But he acknowledges, with much pleasure, that he has since found his labour, upon those subjects, rendered unnecessary by the publication of Dr. Adam’s Koman Antiquities: a work so excellent in its kind, that whoever has the instruction of youth committed to his care, will do them injustice, if he omits to recommend it to their perusal. The notes, therefore, which are added, and which the translator now thinks it his duty to make as few, and as short as possible, are such only as were deemed more immediately necessary to render some passages intelligible to the mere English reader.
It hath been an usual practice, in prefaces to works of this kind, for the authors of them to load the labours of their predecessors with abuse: a practice, of which the present translator acknowledges he neither sees the necessity, nor the utility. For, should he succeed in disparaging the works of others in the humble walk of translation; should he be able to prove them ever so wretchedly executed, it will by no means follow from thence, that his is better. That he thinks it so, is clear from his presuming to publish it. But, as the public has an undoubted right to judge for itself, and will most assuredly exercise that right, the success of every work, of whatever kind, must ultimately depend upon its own merit.
To the public judgment, therefore, he submits his labour; knowing that every endeavour of his, except that of rendering it worthy of acceptance, would be useless; and that, in spite of his utmost exertions, his book will stand or fall by its own merit or demerit, whichever shall be found to preponderate. The public candour he has no reason to doubt; and he awaits its decision with tranquillity, but not without anxiety.
The History of Rome Preface
Whether, in tracing the series of the Roman History, from the foundation of the city, I shall employ my time to good purpose, is a question which I cannot positively determine; nor, were it possible, would I venture to pronounce such determination: for I am aware that the matter is of high antiquity, and has been already treated by many others; the latest writers always supposing themselves capable, either of throwing some new light on the subject, or, by the superiority of their talents for composition, of excelling the more inelegant writers who preceded them. However that may be, I shall, at all events, derive no small satisfaction from the reflection that my best endeavours have been exerted in transmitting to posterity the achievements of the greatest people in the world; and if, amidst such a multitude of writers, my name should not emerge from obscurity, I shall console myself by attributing it to the eminent merit of those who stand in my way in the pursuit of fame. It may be farther observed, that such a subject must require a work of immense extent, as our researches must be carried back through a space of more than seven hundred years; that the state has, from very small beginnings, gradually increased to such a magnitude, that it is now distressed by its own bulk; and that there is every reason to apprehend that the generality of readers will receive but little pleasure from the accounts of its first origin; or of the times immediately succeeding, but will be impatient to arrive at that period, in which the powers of this overgrown state have been long employed in working their own destruction. On the other hand, this much will be derived from my labour, that, so long at least as I shall have my thoughts totally occupied in investigating the transactions of such distant ages, without being embarrassed by any of those unpleasing considerations, in respect of later days, which, though they might not have power to warp a writer’s mind from the truth, would yet be sufficient to create uneasiness, I shall withdraw myself from the sight of the many evils to which our eyes have been so long accustomed. As to the relations which have been handed down of events prior to the founding of the city, or to the circumstances that gave occasion to its being founded, and which bear the semblance rather of poetic fictions, than of authentic records of history—these, I have no intention either to maintain or refute. Antiquity is always indulged with the privilege of rendering the origin of cities more venerable, by intermixing divine with human agency; and if any nation may claim the privilege of being allowed to consider its original as sacred, and to attribute it to the operations of the Gods, surely the Roman people, who rank so high in military fame, may well expect, that, while they choose to represent Mars as their own parent, and that of their founder, the other nations of the world may acquiesce in this, with the same deference with which they acknowledge their sovereignty. But what degree of attention or credit may be given to these and such-like matters I shall not consider as very material. To the following considerations, I wish every one seriously and earnestly to attend; by what kind of men, and by what sort of conduct, in peace and war, the empire has been both acquired and extended: then, as discipline gradually declined, let him follow in his thoughts the structure of ancient morals, at first, as it were, leaning aside, then sinking farther and farther, then beginning to fall precipitate, until he arrives at the present times, when our vices have attained to such a height of enormity, that we can no longer endure either the burden of them, or the sharpness of the necessary remedies. This is the great advantage to be derived from the study of history; indeed the only one which can make it answer any profitable and salutary purpose: for, being abundantly furnished with clear and distinct examples of every kind of conduct, we may select for ourselves, and for the state to which we belong, such as are worthy of imitation; and, carefully noting such, as being dishonourable in their principles, are equally so in their effects, learn to avoid them. Now, either partiality to the subject of my intended work misleads me, or there never was any state either greater, or of purer morals, or richer in good examples, than this of Rome; nor was there ever any city into which avarice and luxury made their entrance so late, or where poverty and frugality were so highly and so long held in honour; men contracting their desires in proportion to the narrowness of their circumstances. Of late years, indeed, opulence has introduced a greediness for gain, and the boundless variety of dissolute pleasures has created, in many, a passion for ruining themselves, and all around them. But let us, in the first stage at least of this undertaking, avoid gloomy reflections, which, when perhaps unavoidable, will not, even then, be agreeable. If it were customary with us, as it is with poets, we would more willingly begin with good omens, and vows, and prayers to the gods and goddesses, that they would propitiously grant success to our endeavours, in the prosecution of so arduous a task.
Book 1
The arrival of ?neas in Italy, and his achievements there, the reign of Ascanius in Alba, and of the other Sylvian kings, his successors. Birth of Romulus and Remus. Romulus builds Rome; forms the senate: divides the people into curias. His wars. He offers the spolia opima to Jupiter Feretrius; is deified. Numa Pompilius institutes the rights of religious worship; builds a temple to Janus; rules in peace, and is succeeded by Tullus Hostilius. His war with the Albans; combat of the Horatii and Curiatii. The Albans removed to Rome. Tullus killed by lightning. Ancus Martius conquers the Latines, and incorporates them with the Romans; enlarges the city, and the bounds of his dominions. Lucumo arrives at Rome: assumes the name of Tarquinius; and on the death of Ancus, gains possession of the throne; defeats the Latines and Sabines; builds a wall round the city, and makes the common sewers: is slain by the sons of Ancus, and is succeeded by Servius Tullius. He institutes the census; divides the people into classes and centuries: extenus the pom?rium; is murdered by Lucius Tarquinius, afterwards surnamed Superbus. He seizes the throne, wages war with the Volscians, and, with their spoils, builds a temple to Jupiter in the Capitol, in consequence of his son Sextus having forcibly violated the chastity of Lucretia, he is dethroned and banished. Consuls elected.
Book 1 Chapter 1
It has been handed down to us, as a certain fact, that the Greeks, when they had taken Troy, treated the Trojans with the utmost severity; with the exception, however, of two of them, ?neas and Antenor, towards whom they exercised none of the rights of conquest. This lenity they owed, partly, to an old connection of hospitality, and partly, to their having been, all along, inclined to peace, and to the restoration of Helen. These chiefs experienced afterwards great varieties of fortune. Antenor, being joined by a multitude of the Henetians, who had been driven out of Paphlagonia in a civil war, and having lost their king Pyl?menes at Troy, were at a loss both for a settlement and a leader, came to the innermost bay of the Adriatic sea, and expelling the Euganeans, who then inhabited the tract between the Alps and the sea, settled the Trojans and Henetians in the possession of the country. The place where they first landed is called Troy, and from thence the Trojan canton also has its name; the nation in general were called Henetians. ?neas, driven from home by the same calamity, but conducted by the fates to an establishment of more importance, came first to Macedonia; thence, in search of a settlement, he sailed to Sicily, and from Sicily proceeded with his fleet to the country of the Laurentians.* Here also, to the spot where they landed, was given the name of Troy. Here the Trojans disembarked; and as, after wandering about for a great length of time, they had nothing left, beside their ships and arms, they began to make prey of whatever they found in the country. On this king Latinus, and the Aborigines, who were then in possession of those lands, assembled hastily from the city and country, in order to repel the violence of the strangers. Of what followed, there are two different accounts. Some writers say, that Latinus, being overcome in battle, contracted an alliance, and afterwards an affinity, with ?neas; others, that when the armies were drawn up in order of battle, before the signal was given, Latinus, advancing in the front, invited the leader of the strangers to a conference; then inquired who they were, whence they came, what had induced them to leave their home, and with what design they had landed on the Laurentian coast; and that, when he was informed that the leader was ?neas, the son of Anchises by Venus, and his followers Trojans; that they had made their escape from the flames of their native city and of their houses, and were in search of a settlement, and a place where they might build a town; being struck with admiration of that renowned people and their chief, and of their spirit, prepared alike for war or peace, he gave him his right hand, and by that pledge assured him of his future friendship. A league was then struck between the leaders, and mutual salutations passed between the armies. Latinus entertained ?neas in his palace, and there, in the presence of his household gods, added a domestic alliance to their public one, giving him his daughter in marriage. This event fully confirmed the hopes of the Trojans, that here, at last, they were to find an end of their wanderings; that here they would enjoy a fixed and permanent settlement. They built a town, which ?neas called Lavinium, from the name of his wife. In a short time after, his new consort bore him a son, who was named by his parents Ascanius.
Book 1 Chapter 2
The Aborigines, in conjunction with the Trojans, soon found themselves engaged in a war. Turnus, king of the Rutulians, to whom Lavinia had been affianced before the arrival of ?neas, enraged at seeing a stranger preferred to him, declared war against both ?neas and Latinus. A battle that ensued gave neither army reason to rejoice. The Rutulians were defeated, and the victorious Aborigines and Trojans lost their leader Latinus. Whereupon Turnus and the Rutulians, diffident of their strength, had recourse to the flourishing state of the Etrurians, and their king Mezentius, who held his court at C?re, at that time an opulent city. He had been, from the beginning, not at all pleased at the foundation of the new city; and now began to think that the Trojan power was increasing to a degree inconsistent with the safety of the neighbouring states; and therefore, without reluctance, concluded an alliance, and joined his forces with those of the Rutulians. ?neas, with the view of conciliating the affection of the Aborigines, that he might be the better able to oppose such formidable enemies, gave to both the nations under his rule the name of Latines, that all should not only be governed by the same laws, but have one common name. From thenceforth the Aborigines yielded not to the Trojans in zeal and fidelity towards their king ?neas. This disposition of the two nations, who coalesced daily with greater cordiality, inspired him with so much confidence, that, notwithstanding Etruria was possessed of such great power, that it had filled with the fame of its prowess not only the land, but the sea also, through the whole length of Italy, from the Alps to the Sicilian Streight; and although he might have remained within his fortifications, secure from any attack of the enemy, yet he led out his troops to the field. The battle that followed was, with respect to the Latines, their second, with respect to ?neas, the last of his mortal acts. He, by whatever appellation the laws of gods and men require him to be called, is deposited on the bank of the river Numicus. The people gave him the title of Jupiter Indiges.*
Book 1 Chapter 3
His son Ascanius was as yet too young to assume the government; nevertheless his title to the sovereignty remained unimpeached, until he arrived at maturity. During this interval, and under the regency of Lavinia, a woman of great capacity, the Latine state, and the united subjects of the prince’s father and grandfather, continued firm in their allegiance. I am not without some doubts (for who can affirm with certainty in a matter of such antiquity?) whether this was the same Ascanius mentioned above, or one older than him, born of Creusa, wife to ?neas, before the destruction of Troy, and who accompanied his father in his flight from thence; whom, being also called Iulus, the Julian family claim as the founder of their name. This Ascanius, wheresoever, and of whatsoever mother born, certainly the son of ?neas, finding the number of inhabitants in Lavinium too great, left that city, then in a flourishing and opulent state, considering the circumstances of those times, to his mother, or step-mother, and built a new one on the Alban mount, which, from its situation being stretched along the hill, was called Alba Longa.? Between the building of Lavinium, and the transplanting the colony to Alba Longa, the interval was only about thirty years; yet so rapidly had this people increased in power, especially after the defeat of the Etrurians, that, not even on the death of ?neas, nor afterwards, during the regency of a woman, and the first essays of a youthful reign, did either Mezentius and the Etrurians, or any other of the bordering nations, dare to attempt hostilities against them. A peace was agreed upon, in which it was stipulated that the river Albula, now called the Tiber, should be the boundary between the Etrurians and Latines. Ascanius’s son, called Sylvius, from his having by some accident been born in the woods, succeeded him in the kingdom. He begat ?neas Sylvius, who afterwards begat Latinus Sylvius. This prince planted several colonies, who have obtained the name of Ancient Latines. The surname of Sylvius was henceforward given to all those who reigned at Alba. Of Latinus was born Alba; of Alba, Atys; of Atys, Capys; of Capys, Capetus; of Capetus, Tiberinus; who, being drowned in endeavouring to cross the river Albula, gave to that river the name so celebrated among his posterity. Agrippa, son of Tiberinus, reigned next; after Agrippa, Romulus. Sylvius received the kingdom from his father, and being struck by lightning, demised it to Aventinus, who, being buried on that hill which is now a part of the city of Rome, gave it his name. To him succeeded Procas, who had two sons, Numitor and Amulius. To Numitor, as being the first-born, he bequeathed the ancient kingdom of the Sylvian family; but force prevailed over both the will of their father, and the respect due to priority of birth. Amulius dethroned his brother, took possession of the kingdom, and adding crime to crime, put to death the male offspring of Numitor, making his daughter Rhea Sylvia a vestal, under the specious pretence of doing her honour, but, in fact, to deprive her of all hope of issue, the vestals being obliged to vow perpetual virginity.*
Book 1 Chapter 4
But the fates, I suppose, demanded the founding of this great city, and the first establishment of an empire, which is now, in power, next to the immortal gods. The vestal being deflowered by force, brought forth twins, and declared that the father of her doubtful offspring was Mars; either because she really thought so, or in hopes of extenuating the guilt of her transgression by imputing it to the act of a deity. But neither gods nor men screened her or her children from the King’s cruelty: the priestess was loaded with chains, and cast into prison, and the children were ordered to be thrown into the stream of the river. It happened providentially that the Tiber, overflowing its banks, formed itself into stagnant pools in such a manner, as that the regular channel was every where inaccessible, and those who carried the infants supposed that they would be drowned in any water, however still. Wherefore, as if thereby fulfilling the King’s order, they exposed the boys in the nearest pool, where now stands the Ruminal fig-tree, which, it is said, was formerly called Romular. Those places were at that time wild deserts. A story prevails that the retiring flood having left on dry ground the trough, hitherto floating, in which they had been exposed, a thirsty she-wolf from the neighbouring mountains, directed her course to the cries of the children, and, stooping, presented her dugs to the infants, showing so much gentleness, that the keeper of the King herds found her licking the boys with her tongue; and that this shepherd, whose name was Faustulus, carried them home to his wife Laurentia to be nursed. Some there are who think that this Laurentia, from her having been a prostitute, was, by the shepherds, called Lupa; and to this circumstance they ascribe the origin of this fabulous tale. Thus born, and thus educated, as soon as years supplied them with strength, they led not an inactive life at the stables, or among the cattle, but traversed the neighbouring forests in hunting. Hence acquiring vigour, both of body and mind, they soon began not only to withstand the wild beasts, but to attack robbers loaded with booty. The spoil thus acquired they divided with the shepherds; and, in company with these, the number of their young associates continually increasing, they carried on both their business, and their sports.
Book 1 Chapter 5
It is said, that even at that early period, the sports of the Lupercal,* which we still celebrate, were practised on the Palatine hill, and that this was called Palatium, from Pallanteum, a city of Arcadia, and afterwards the Palatine hill; and that Evander, who was of that tribe of Arcadians, and had been many years before in possession of this part of the country, had instituted there this solemnity brought from Arcadia, in which young men were to run about naked, in sport and wantonness, in honour of Lycean Pan, whom the Romans afterwards called Inuus. While they were intent on the performance of these sports, the time of their celebration being generally known, the robbers, enraged at the loss of their booty, attacked them by surprise, having placed themselves in ambush. Romulus making a vigorous defence, extricated himself; but they took Remus prisoner, delivered him up to King Amulius, and had the assurance to accuse them both of criminal misbehaviour. The principal charge made against them was, that they had made violent inroads on the lands of Numitor, and, with a band of youths which they had collected, plundered the country in a hostile manner. In consequence of this, Remus was given up to Numitor to be punished. From the very beginning, Faustulus had entertained hopes, that the children whom he educated, would prove to be descended of the royal blood; for he knew that the infants of Rhea had been exposed by order of the King, and that the time when he had taken them up, corresponded exactly with that event; but he had resolved to avoid any hasty disclosure, unless some favourable conjuncture or necessity should require it. The necessity happened first; wherefore, constrained by his apprehensions, he imparted the affair to Romulus. It happened also that Numitor, while he had Remus in his custody, heard that the brothers were twins; and when he combined with this circumstance their age, and their turn of mind, which gave no indication of a servile condition, he was struck with the idea of their being his grandchildren; and all his inquiries leading to the same conclusion, he was upon the point of acknowledging Remus. In consequence, a plot against the King was concerted between all the parties. Romulus, not going at the head of a band of youths, for he was unequal to an open attempt, but ordering the shepherds to come at a certain hour, by different roads, to the palace, forced his way to the King, and was supported by Remus, with another party, procured from the house of Numitor. Thus they put the King to death.
Book 1 Chapter 6
In the beginning of the tumult, Numitor, calling out that the city was assaulted by an enemy, and the palace attacked, had drawn away the Alban youth to the citadel, on pretence of securing it by an armed garrison; and, in a little time seeing the young men, after perpetrating the murder, coming towards him, with expressions of joy, he instantly called the people to an assembly, laid before them the iniquitous behaviour of his brother towards himself; the birth of his grandchildren, how they were begotten, how educated, how discovered; then informed them of the death of the usurper, and that he had himself encouraged the design. The youths at the same time advancing with their followers, through the midst of the assembly, saluted their grandfather as King; on which the multitude, testifying their assent by universal acclamations, ratified to him the royal title and authority. When Numitor was thus reinstated in the sovereignty at Alba, Romulus and Remus were seized with a desire of building a city in the place where they had been exposed and educated. There were great numbers of Albans and Latines, who could be spared for the purpose, and these were joined by a multitude of shepherds; so that, all together, they formed such a numerous body, as gave grounds to hope that Alba and Lavinium would be but small, in comparison with the city which they were about to found. These views were interrupted by an evil, hereditary in their family, ambition for rule. Hence arose a shameful contest; though they had in the beginning rested their dispute on this amicable footing, that, as they were twins, and consequently, no title to precedence could be derived from priority of birth, the gods, who were guardians of the place, should choose by auguries,* which of the two should give a name to the new city, and enjoy the government of it when built. Romulus chose the Palatine, Remus the Aventine mount, as their consecrated stands to wait the auguries. We are told that the first omen appeared to Remus, consisting of six vultures; and, that, after this had been proclaimed, twice that number showed themselves to Romulus; on which each was saluted King by his own followers; the former claiming the kingdom on the ground of the priority of time; the latter, on that of the number of the birds. On their meeting, an altercation ensued, then blows; and their passions being inflamed by the dispute, the affair proceeded at last to extremity, and murder was the consequence. Remus fell by a blow received in the tumult. There is another account more generally received, that Remus, in derision of his brother, leaped over the new wall, and that Romulus, enraged thereat, slew him, uttering at the same time this imprecation, “So perish every one that shall hereafter leap over my wall.” 751. By these means Romulus came into the sole possession of the government, and the city, when built, was called after the name of its founder. The first buildings which he raised, were on the Palatine hill, where he himself had been brought up. To the other deities he performed worship, according to the mode of the Albans, but to Hercules, according to that of the Greeks, as instituted by Evander.
Book 1 Chapter 7
It is recorded that Hercules, after having slain Geryon, drove away his cattle, which were surprisingly beautiful; and that, being fatigued with travelling, he lay down, near the river Tiber, in a grassy place, to which he had swum over, driving the herd before him, in order to refresh the cattle with rest and the rich pasture. There, having indulged himself in meat and wine, he was overpowered by sleep; whereupon a shepherd, who dwelt in the neighbourhood, named Cacus, of great strength and fierceness, being struck with the beauty of the cattle, wished to make prey of some of them; but considering, that if he should drive the herd before him into his cave, their tracks would direct the owner’s search, he dragged the cattle backward by the tails into the cave, picking out those that were the most remarkable for their beauty. Hercules awaking at the dawn of day, took a view of his herd, and missing some of the number, went directly to the next cave, to examine whether the footsteps led thither; but when he observed that they all pointed outward, and yet did not direct to any other quarter, perplexed, and not knowing how to act, he began to drive forward his herd from that unlucky place. Some of the cows, as they were driven off, missing those that were left behind, began, as was natural, to low after them, and the sound being returned from the cave, by those that were shut up in it, brought Hercules back. Cacus, endeavouring by force to prevent his approach to the cave, and invoking in vain the assistance of the shepherds, received a blow of his club, which put an end to his life. At that time, Evander, a native of Peloponnesus, who had removed hither, governed that part of the country, rather through an influence acquired by his merit, than any power of sovereignty vested in him. He was highly revered on account of his having introduced the wonderful knowledge of letters, a matter quite new to these men, who were ignorant of all the arts; and still more so, on account of the supposed divinity of his mother Carmenta, whose prophetic powers had been an object of admiration to those nations, before the arrival of the Sibyl in Italy. Evander then, being alarmed by the concourse of the shepherds, hastened to the spot, where they were assembled in a tumultuous manner about the stranger, whom they accused as undeniably guilty of murder; and when he was informed of the fact, and of the cause of it, observing the person and mien of the hero, filled with more dignity and majesty than belonged to a human being, he inquired who he was; and being told his name, that of his father and his country, he addressed him in these words; “Hail, Hercules, son of Jove! my mother, the infallible interpreter of the gods, foretold to me that you were destined to increase the number of the celestials, and that an altar would be dedicated to you in this place, which a nation, hereafter the most powerful in the world, should distinguish by the name of The Greatest,* and would offer thereon sacrifices to your honour.” Hercules, giving his right hand, replied, that, “he embraced the omen, and would fulfil the decree of the fates, by building and dedicating an altar in the place.” There, then for the first time, was performed a sacrifice to Hercules, of a chosen heifer taken out of the herd; and the Potitii and Pinarii, the most distinguished families in the neighbourhood at the time, were invited to assist in the ceremonies, and share the entertainment. It happened that the Potitii attended in time, and the entrails were served up to them; the Pinarii, arriving after the entrails were eaten, came in for the rest of the feast; hence it continued a rule, as long as the Pinarian family existed, that they should not eat of the entrails. The Potitii, instructed by Evander, were directors of that solemnity for many ages, until the solemn office of the family was delegated to public servants, on which the whole race of the Potitii became extinct. These were the only foreign rites that Romulus then adopted, showing thereby, from the beginning, a respect for immortality obtained by merit, a dignity to which his own destiny was conducting him.
Book 1 Chapter 8
After paying due worship to the gods, he summoned the multitude to an assembly; and, knowing that they could never be brought to incorporate as one people, by any other means, than by having their conduct directed by certain rules, he gave them a body of laws;* and judging, that if he added to the dignity of his own carriage, by assuming the ensigns of sovereignty, it would help to procure respect to those laws, among a rude uninformed people, he adopted a more majestic style of appearance, both with regard to his other appointments, and particularly in being attended by twelve lictors. Some think that he was led to fix on this number by that of the birds in the augury which had portended the kingdom to him: I am rather inclined to be of their opinion, who suppose that all the officers attendant on magistrates, and among the rest, the lictors, as well as the number of them, were borrowed from their neighbours, the Etrurians, from whom the curule chair, and the gown edged with purple, were taken; and that the Etrurians, used that number, because their King being elected by the suffrages of twelve states, each state gave him one lictor. Meanwhile the city increased in buildings, which were carried on to an extent proportioned rather to the number of inhabitants they hoped for in future, than to what they had at the time.* But that its size might not increase beyond its strength, in order to augment his numbers, he had recourse to a practice common among founders of cities, who used to feign that the multitude of mean and obscure people, thus collected, had sprang out of the earth. He opened a sanctuary, in the place where the inclosure now is, on the road down from the Capitol, called The Pass of the Two Groves. Hither fled, from the neighbouring states, crowds of all sorts, without distinction; whether freemen or slaves, led by a fondness for novelty; and this it was that gave solidity to the growing greatness of the city. Having reason now to be pretty well satisfied with his strength, he next made provision that this strength should be regulated by wisdom; and for that purpose, he created an hundred senators,? either because that number was sufficient, or because there were no more than an hundred citizens who could prove their descent from respectable families. They were certainly styled Fathers from their honourable office, and their descendants Patricians.
Book 1 Chapter 9
The Roman state had now attained such a degree of power, that it was a match in arms for any of the neighbouring nations; but, from the small number of its women, its greatness was not likely to last longer than one age of man, as they had neither hopes of offspring among themselves, nor had yet contracted any intermarriages with their neighbours. Romulus, therefore, by advice of the senate, sent ambassadors round to all the adjoining states, soliciting their alliance, and permission for his new subjects to marry among them: he intimated to them, that “cities, like every thing else, rise from low beginnings; that, in time those which are supported by their own merit, and the favour of the gods, procure to themselves great power, and a great name: and that he had full assurance both that the gods favoured the founding of Rome, and that the people would not be deficient in merit. Wherefore, as men, they ought to show no reluctance to mix their blood and race with men.” In no one place were his ambassadors favourably heard; such contempt of them did people entertain, and, at the same time, such apprehensions of danger to themselves and their posterity, from so great a power growing up in the midst of them. By the greater part, they were dismissed with the question, “whether they had opened an asylum for women also, for that would be the only way to procure suitable matches for them?” This was highly resented by the Roman youth, insomuch that the business appeared evidently to point towards violence. Romulus, in order to afford them a convenient time and place for a design of that sort, dissembling his displeasure, prepared, with that intent, to celebrate solemn games in honour of the equestrian Neptune,* to which he gave the name of Consualia. He then ordered the intended celebration to be proclaimed among the neighbouring nations, while his people exerted themselves in making the most magnificent preparations that their knowledge and abilities allowed, in order to engage attention and raise expectation. Great numbers of people assembled, induced, in some measure, by a desire of seeing the new city, especially those whose countries lay nearest, the C?ninensians, Crustuminians, and Antemnatians, especially the whole multitude of the Sabines came with their wives and children. They were hospitably invited to the different houses; and when they viewed the situation, and the fortifications, and the city crowded with houses, they were astonished at the rapid increase of the Roman power. When the show began, and every person’s thoughts and eyes were attentively engaged on it, then, according to the preconcerted plan, on a signal being given, the Roman youth ran different ways to carry off the young women.Y. R. 4. 748. Some they bore away, as they happened to meet with them, without waiting to make a choice; but others of extraordinary beauty, being designed for the principal senators, were conveyed to their houses by plebeians employed for that purpose. It is said, that one highly distinguished above the rest for her beauty, was carried off by the party of one Talassius, and that in answer to many who eagerly inquired to whom they were hurrying her, they, every now and then, to prevent any interruption in their course, cried out, that they were carrying her to Talassius; this circumstance gave rise to the use of that word at weddings. The terror occasioned by this outrage put an end to the sports, and the parents of the young women retired full of grief, inveighing against such a violation of the laws of hospitality, and appealing to the god, to whose solemn festival and games they had come, relying on the respect due to religion, and on the faith of nations. Nor did the women who were seized entertain better hopes with regard to themselves, or a less degree of indignation: however Romulus went about in person, and told them, that “this proceeding had been occasioned by the haughtiness of their parents, who refused to allow their neighbours to marry among them; that, notwithstanding this, they should be united to his people in wedlock in the common enjoyment of all property, and of their common children; a bond of union than which the human heart feels none more endearing. He begged of them to soften their resentment, and to bestow their affections on those men on whom chance had bestowed their persons. It often happened, he said, that to harsh treatment mutual regard had succeeded, and they would find their husbands behave the better on this very account; that every one would exert himself, not merely in performing his duty as a husband, but to make up to them for the loss of their parents and of their country.” To these persuasions was added, the soothing behaviour of their husbands themselves, who urged, in extenuation of the violence they had been tempted to commit, the excess of passion, and the force of love: arguments, than which there can be none more powerful to assuage the irritation of the female mind.
Book 1 Chapter 10
 The women, who had been forcibly carried off, soon became reconciled to their situation; but their parents, still more than at first, endeavoured to rouse their several states to revenge, employing both complaints and tears, and wearing the dress of mourners. Nor did they confine their demands of vengeance within the limits of their own states, but made joint applications from all quarters to Titus Tatius, king of the Sabines, the embassies being addressed to him as the person of the highest renown in all those parts. The people who were the principal sufferers by the outrage, were the C?ninensians, the Crustuminians, and the Antemnatians. To them, the proceedings of Tatius and the Sabine nation appeared too dilatory; wherefore these three states, uniting in a confederacy, prepared for immediate war. Nor did even the Crustuminians and Antemnatians exert activity enough for the impatient rage of the C?ninensians. This state, therefore, alone, made an irruption into the Roman territories; but while they carried on their ravages in a disorderly manner, Romulus met them, and, without much difficulty, taught them that rage without strength avails but little. He routed and dispersed their army; pursued it in its flight; slew their king in the battle, and seized his spoils; after which he made himself master of their city at the first assault. From thence he led home his victorious troops; and being not only capable of performing splendid actions, but also fond of displaying those actions to advantage, he marched up in procession to the Capitol, carrying on a frame, properly constructed for the purpose, the spoils of the enemy’s general whom he had slain; and there laying them down under an oak, which the shepherds accounted sacred, he, at the same time, while he offered this present, marked out with his eye the bounds of a temple for Jupiter, to whom he gave a new name, saying, “Jupiter Feretrius,* in acknowledgment of the victory which I have obtained, I, Romulus the king, offer to thee these royal arms, and dedicate a temple to thee on that spot which I have now measured out in my mind, to be a repository for those grand spoils, which, after my example, generals in future times shall offer, on slaying the kings and generals of their enemies.” This was the origin of that temple which was the first consecrated in Rome. Accordingly, it pleased the gods so to order, that neither the prediction of the founder of the temple, intimating that future generals should carry spoils thither, should prove erroneous, nor that the honour of making such offerings should be rendered common, by being imparted to many. In after times, during so many years, and so many wars, there have been only two instances of the grand spoils being obtained; so rare was the attainment of that high honour.
Book 1 Chapter 11
While the Romans were thus employed, the army of the Antemnatians, taking advantage of the opportunity which the country being left without troops afforded them, made an hostile incursion into the Roman territories; but a Roman legion,* hastily led out, surprised them, while they straggled through the country. They were routed therefore at the first onset, and their town was taken. While Romulus exulted in this second victory, his consort, Hersilia, teased by the intreaties of the captured women, earnestly petitioned him that he would show favour to their parents, and admit them into the number of his citizens, a measure which could not fail of forming an union satisfactory to all parties. This request was easily obtained. He then marched against the Crustuminians, who were carrying on hostilities: with these he had still less trouble than with the Antemnatians, because they had been dispirited by the defeats of their allies. Colonies were sent to both countries, but greater numbers were found willing to give in their names for Crustuminum, on account of the fertility of the soil. There were frequent migrations also from those places to Rome, chiefly of the parents and relations of the ravished women.Y. R. 5. 747. The last war, on this occasion, was begun by the Sabines; and it was by far the most formidable, for none of their operations were directed by rage or passion, nor did they disclose their intentions until they began to act. They employed stratagem, too, in aid of prudence. The Roman citadel was commanded by Spurius Tarpeius. His maiden daughter, who had accidentally gone without the fortifications to bring water for the sacred rites, was bribed by Tatius with gold to admit some of his troops into the citadel. As soon as they gained admittance they put her to death, by throwing their armour in a heap upon her, either because they wished that the citadel should rather appear to have been taken by storm, or for the sake of establishing a precedent that faith was not to be kept with a traitor. The story is told in another manner; that, as the Sabines generally carried on their left arms bracelets of great weight, and wore rings set with precious stones, which made a great show, she bargained for what they wore on their left arms; accordingly, instead of the presents of gold which she expected, they threw their shields upon her. Others say, that, in pursuance of their agreement to deliver up what was on their left arms, she expressly demanded their shields; and this seeming to be done with a treacherous intent, she was put to death by means of the very reward which she required.
Book 1 Chapter 12
The Sabines however kept possession of the citadel; but though, on the following day, the Roman army, in order of battle, filled the whole plain between the Palatine and Capitoline hills, yet they did not come down to the level ground; until the Romans, stimulated by rage and eagerness to recover the citadel, advanced to an assault. The foremost champions of the two parties, who led on the troops, were Mettius Curtius on the side of the Sabines, and Hostus Hostilius on that of the Romans. The latter, in the front of the army, by his spirit and intrepidity, enabled the Romans to support the fight, in spite of the disadvantage of the ground; but, on his falling, the Roman soldiers quickly gave way, and were driven back to the old gate of the Palatium. Romulus himself being forced along by the flying crowd, raised his hands toward heaven, and said, “O Jupiter! by the direction of thy auspices, I, here on the Palatine hill, laid the first foundation of my city. The Sabines are already in possession of our citadel, which they obtained by fraud; from thence they now make their way hither, in arms, and have passed the middle of the valley; but do thou, O father of gods and men! from hence at least repel the enemy; remove dismay from the minds of the Romans, and stop their shameful flight. I vow a temple here to thee, Jupiter Stator,* as a testimony to posterity of the city being preserved by thy immediate aid.” Having prayed thus, as if he had perceived that his supplications were heard, he called out, “Here Romans, Jupiter, supremely good and great, orders you to halt, and renew the fight.” The Romans, as if they had heard a voice from heaven, halted, and Romulus himself flew forward to the front. On the side of the Sabines, Mettius Curtius had run down first from the citadel; had driven back the Romans, in disorder, through the whole space at present occupied by the Forum, and was now at no great distance from the gate of the Palatium, crying aloud, “We have conquered these traitors to hospitality, these cowards in war. They now feel that it is one thing to ravish virgins, and another, far different, to fight with men.” While he was vaunting in this manner, Romulus attacked him with a band of the most courageous of the youths. Mettius happened at that time to fight on horseback, and on that account was the more easily repulsed: he soon gave way, and was pursued by the Romans: the rest of the Roman troops also, animated by the bravery of their king, put the Sabines to the route. Mettius was plunged into a lake, his horse taking fright at the noise of the pursuers: and this circumstance turned the attention of the Sabines to the danger in which they saw a person of so much consequence to them. However, his friends beckoning and calling to him, he acquired fresh courage from the affection of the multitude, and accomplished his escape. Both parties now renewed the engagement in the plain between the two hills, but the advantage was on the side of the Romans.
Book 1 Chapter 13
At this crisis the Sabine women, whose sufferings had given cause to the war, with their hair dishevelled and garments torn, their natural timidity being overcome by the sight of such disastrous scenes, had the resolution to throw themselves in the way of the flying weapons; and, rushing across between the armies, separated the incensed combatants, and assuaged their fury; beseeching, on the one hand their parents, on the other their husbands, “not to pollute themselves with the impious stain of the blood of father-in-law and son-in-law, nor brand with the infamy of parricide their offspring, the children of one, and grandchildren of the other party. If ye wish, said they, to destroy the affinity and connection formed between you by our marriage, turn your rage against us; we are the cause of the war; we are the cause of wounds and death to our husbands and fathers. It is better for us to perish, than to live either widowed by the loss of one party or fatherless by that of the other.” This transaction powerfully affected both the multitude and the leaders: silence suddenly ensued and a suspension of the fight. The commanders then came forward, in order to concert measures for a pacification; and they not only concluded a peace, but combined the two nations into one,Y. R. 7. 745. associating the two sovereigns in the government, and establishing the seat of empire at Rome. By this accession the number of citzens was doubled; and, as some compliment to the Sabines, the united people were called Quirites, from the town of Cures. To perpetuate the remembrance of that battle, the place where his horse, emerging from the deep of the lake, first brought Curtius to a shallow, was called the Curtian lake.* This happy re-establishment of peace, after a war so distressing, rendered the Sabine women still dearer both to their husbands and parents, and above all to Romulus himself, so that, when he divided the people into thirty Curias,? he gave these the names of the women. But as the number of the women was undoubtedly greater than that of the Curias, whether those who were to give their names to them were selected on account of their age, or their own dignity, or that of their husbands, or by lot we are not informed. At the same time also, three centuries of knights were enrolled; the Ramnenses, so called from Romulus; the Titienses, from Titus Tatius; and the Luceres, the reason of whose name and origin is unknown. Thenceforward the two kings reigned together, not only with equal power but with concord.
Book 1 Chapter 14
Several years after, some relations of king Tatius offered violence to the ambassadors of the Laurentians; for which violation of the law of nations, the latter demanded satisfaction: But Tatius paid more regard to the interest and importunities of his relations, and thereby drew upon himself the punishment due to them. For he was slain afterwards at Lavinium, in a tumult raised on his going thither to an anniversary sacrifice. It is said, that Romulus showed less resentment of this proceeding than became him, either because there had been no sincere cordiality between them, while associated in the government, or because he thought that the other deserved the death which he met. He avoided therefore entering into a war on the occasion; but to make some atonement for the ill treatment of the ambassadors, and the murder of the king, the league between the cities of Rome and Lavinium was renewed. Thus, beyond their expectations, the Romans enjoyed peace on that side; but a war broke out from another quarter, much nearer home, and almost at their gates. The Fidenatians, looking with jealousy on the great increase of power in so near a neighbour, determined to make war on them before they should arrive at that degree of strength which it was evident they would in time acquire, and sent a body of young men in arms, who laid waste the whole country between Fiden? and the city. Then, turning to the left hand, because the Tiber confined them on the right, and continuing their depredations, they threw the country people into the utmost consternation, and the sudden alarm spreading from the country into the city, made known what had happened. Romulus instantly led out his forces; for a war so near home admitted no delay, and pitched his camp at the distance of a mile from Fiden?. Leaving there a small guard, and marching out with all the rest of his troops, he ordered a party to lie in ambush, among the bushes that grew there in abundance; then advancing with the other more numerous body of infantry, and all the cavalry, by riding up almost to the gates and offering battle, in an irregular and insulting manner, he drew the enemy out of the town, as he wished. The cavalry, acting in this manner, answered also another purpose, as it afforded a more specious pretext for the retreat, which he was to counterfeit; and when the foot too began to retire, while the horse seemed irresolute, whether to fight or fly, the enemy rushing suddenly out of the gates in crowds, eager to pursue and press on the Roman army in its retreat, were drawn to the place of the ambuscade. The Romans, now rising suddenly, attacked their line in flank; and the ensigns of those who had been left to guard the camp, advancing at the same time, added to their fears. Dismayed at so many dangers, the Fidenatians fled, before Romulus and the horseman with him, could well turn to pursue them. Thus they, who had lately pursued an enemy, who only pretended to fly, now fled themselves in earnest, with much greater haste, back to the city: but they could not get clear of the enemy; the Romans pressing close on their rear, rushed into the city along with them, before the gates could be shut.
Book 1 Chapter 15
The contagion of the Fidenatian war infected the Veientians. Induced by the relationship subsisting between them and the Fidenatians, (for they also were Etrurians,) and urged on beside by their dangerous vicinity of situation, in case the Roman arms were to be turned against all their neighbours, made an incursion into the Roman territories, in the manner of a predatory, rather than of a regular, war; and thus, without encamping or waiting the approach of the enemy’s army, they returned to Veii, carrying home the plunder collected in the country. On the other side, the Roman commander, not finding the enemy in the country, and being prepared for, and determined on, a decisive action, crossed over the Tiber. The Veientians, hearing that he was forming a camp, and that he intended to advance to their city, marched out to meet him; for they chose rather to engage in the open field, than to remain shut up, and fight from the walls and houses. There, unassisted by any stratagem, the Roman King, through the mere force of his veteran troops, obtained the victory, and pursued the routed enemy to their walls. The city was so strong, and so well secured both by art and by nature, that he did not choose to attempt it, but led home his troops, and, in his way, ravaged the enemy’s country for the sake of revenge rather than of booty. These devastations having distressed the Veientians no less than the loss of the battle, they sent deputies to Rome to sue for peace. A part of their lands was taken from them, and a truce granted for an hundred years. These were the principal transactions in peace and war, during the reign of Romulus; and none of them was unsuitable to the belief of his divine origin, or to the rank of a divinity, which after his death he was supposed to have obtained. This may be said of the spirit which he showed in recovering the kingdom for his grandfather, as well as of his wise conduct in founding the city, and establishing its power, by the arts both of war and peace; for, by the strength which it acquired under his management, it became so respectable, that, during forty years after, it enjoyed profound peace and security. He stood, however, much higher in the favour of the people than he did in that of the senate; and was yet more beloved by his army. He established a body guard of three hundred men, whom he called Celeres;* and these he kept constantly about his person, in time of peace as well as war.
Book 1 Chapter 16
Such were his achievements in his mortal state. One day, while holding an assembly in the plain, on the borders of the lake of Capra, for the purpose of reviewing his army, a sudden storm arose, accompanied with violent thunder and lightning; the king was enveloped in a thick cloud, which hid him from the eyes of the assembly, and was never more seen upon earth. The Roman youth were at length eased of their apprehensions, by the return of calm and serene weather, after such a turbulent day; but when they saw the royal seat empty, though they readily believed the senators, who had stood nearest to him, that he had been carried up on high by the storm, yet they were struck with such dread at being thus left in a manner fatherless, that, for some time, they remained in mournful silence. At last, some few setting the example, the whole multitude saluted Romulus as “a deity, the son of a deity, the king and parent of the city of Rome;” and implored his favour, with prayers, that he would be pleased always “propitiously to watch over the safety of his own offspring.” Some, I believe, even at that time, harboured silent suspicions that the king had been torn in pieces by the hands of the senators. Such a report was spread abroad, but it was little credited, both on account of the high admiration entertained of the man, and because the general consternation caused the other account to be more universally received. It is farther mentioned, that a contrivance of one particular man procured additional credit to this representation of the matter: for Proculus Julius, a person whose testimony, as we are told, deserved respect in any case, even of the greatest importance, while the public were full of grief for the king, and of displeasure against the senators, came out into an assembly of the people, and said, “Romans, yesterday at the dawn of day, Romulus, the parent of this our city, descending suddenly from heaven, appeared before me; and when, seized with horror, I stood in a worshipping posture, and addressed him with prayers, that I might be allowed to behold him without being guilty of impiety, Go, said he, tell the Romans that it is the will of the gods that my Rome should be the metropolis of the world. Let them therefore cultivate the arts of war; and be assured, and hand this assurance down to posterity, that no human power is able to withstand the Roman arms. After these words, he went up, and vanished from my sight.” It was wonderful how readily the story was credited on this man’s word; and how much the grief of the people, and of the army, was assuaged, by their being satisfied of his immortality.