[390 B.C.]

failing, and their arms weighing down their debilitated bodies, whilst the guards were being relieved, insisted that there should be either a surrender, or that they should be bought off, on whatever terms were possible, the Gauls intimating in rather plain terms, that they could be induced for no very great compensation to relinquish the siege. Then the senate was held and instructions were given to the military tribunes to capitulate.

Upon this the matter was settled between Quintus Sulpicius, a military tribune, and Brennus, the chieftain of the Gauls, and one thousand pounds weight of gold was agreed on as the ransom of a people, who were soon after to be the rulers of the world. To a transaction very humiliating in itself, insult was added. False weights were brought by the Gauls, and on the tribune

objecting, his sword was thrown in in addition to the weight by the insolent Gaul, and an expression was heard intolerable to the Romans, "Woe to the vanquished!"

But both gods and men interfered to prevent the Romans from living on the condition of being ransomed; for by some chance, before the execrable price was completed, all the gold being not yet weighed in consequence of the altercation, the dictator comes up, and orders the gold to be removed, and the Gauls to clear away. When they, holding out against him, affirmed that they had concluded a bargain, he denied that the agreement was a valid one, which had been entered into with a magistrate of inferior authority without his orders, after he had been nominated dictator; and he gives notice to the Gauls to get ready for battle. He orders his men to throw their baggage in a heap, and to get ready their arms, and to recover their country with steel, not with gold, having before their eyes the temples of the gods, and their wives and children, and the soil of their country disfigured by the calamities of war, and all those objects which they were

[390-349 B.C.]

solemnly bound to defend, to recover, and to revenge. He then draws up his army, as the nature of the place admitted, on the site of the half-demolished city, and which was uneven by nature, and he secured all those advantages for his own men, which could be prepared or selected by military skill.

The Gauls, thrown into confusion by the unexpected event, take up arms, and with rage, rather than good judgment, rushed upon the Romans. Fortune had now changed; now the aid of the gods and human prudence assisted the Roman cause. At the first encounter, therefore, the Gauls were routed with no greater difficulty than they had found in gaining the victory at Allia. They were afterwards beaten under the conduct and auspices of the same Camillus, in a more regular engagement, at the eighth stone on the Gabine road, whither they had betaken themselves after their defeat. There the slaughter was universal: their camp was taken, and not even one person was left to carry news of the defeat.

The dictator, after having recovered his country from the enemy, returns into the city in triumph; and among the rough military jests which they throw out on such occasions he is styled, with praises by no means undeserved, Romulus, and parent of his country, and a second founder of the city. His country, thus preserved by arms, he unquestionably saved a second time in peace, when he hindered the people from removing to Veii, both the tribunes pressing the matter with greater earnestness after the burning of the city, and the commons of themselves being more inclined to that measure; and that was the cause of his not resigning his dictatorship after the triumph, the senate entreating him not to leave the commonwealth in so unsettled a state.c

OTHER ACCOUNTS OF THE DEPARTURE OF THE GAULS

Such was the conclusion of the legend. But, unfortunately for Roman pride, here also, as in the tale of Porsenna, traces of true history are preserved which show how little the Roman annalists regarded truth. Polybius tells us, as if he knew no other story, that the departure of the Gauls was caused by the intelligence that the Venetians, an Illyrian tribe, had invaded their settlements in northern Italy, and that they actually received the gold and marched off unmolested to their homes. It is added by a later historian, that Drusus, the elder brother of the emperor Tiberius, recovered this very gold from the Gauls of his own day.

The Gauls left the city in ruins, in whatever way they were compelled to retire, whether by the sword of Camillus, or by the softer persuasion of gold. Two later inroads of the Gauls are distinguished by two famous legends: the last, or nearly the last, which occur in the pages of Roman history.

In the Manlian house there was a family which bore the name of Torquatus. This name was said to have been won by T. Manlius, who fought with a gigantic Gallic champion on the bridge over the Anio in 361 B.C., and slew him. From the neck of the slain enemy he took the massy chain (torques) which the Gallic chiefs were in the habit of wearing. He put it round his own neck, and returning in triumph to his friends, was ever after known by the name of T. Manlius Torquatus. Of him we shall hear more.

Again, when L. Camillus, a nephew of the great Camillus, was pursuing the Gauls through the Volscian plains in 349 B.C., a champion challenged

[300-349 B.C.]

any one of the Roman youth to single combat. The challenge was readily accepted by M. Valerius, who, by the side of the huge Gaul, looked like a mere stripling. At the beginning of the combat (wonderful to tell) a crow lighted upon his helmet; and as they fought, the bird confounded the Gaul by flying in his face and striking him with his beak, and flapping its wings before his eyes; so that he fell an easy conquest to the young Roman. Hence M. Valerius was ever after known by the name of Corvus, and his descendants after him. Him also we shall hear of hereafter; for he lived to be a great general, and more than once delivered his country from great danger.b

Thus runs the legend of the first great event in Roman history — an event so important that the echo reached even to Greece. "The capture of Rome by the Gauls," says George Cornewall Lewis, "is the first event in Roman history which, so far as we know, attracted the notice of the contemporary Greeks. Plutarch says that Heraclides of Pontus spoke of a report from the far West, which described an Hellenic city called Rome, situated somewhere near the great sea, as having been taken by an army from the distant land of the Hyperboreans.'

Ihne is very incredulous of most of the legends, even suggesting that the legend of the geese had an etiological origin and was merely invented to explain a religious ceremony in which a dog was impaled and a goose decorated with gold, instead of being actually the origin of that annual ceremony. Lewis, however, finds the older story amply substantiated.1 Among the chief sceptics are Mommsen, Schwegler, and Pais; the most radical of all. Niebuhr's e story of the whole event is worth quoting, beginning with his comments on the story that Aruns of Clusium brought in the Gauls.a

NIEBUHR ON THE CONDUCT OF THE ROMANS

Though history rejects the incident as demonstrably false, it is well suited to the legend; and every legend which was current among the people long before the rise of literature among them, is itself a living memorial of ancient times, even though its contents may not be so, and deserves a place in a history of Rome written with a due love for the subject.

The determination to sacrifice the old men certainly cannot be called inconceivable in a people of antiquity. This however is inconceivable, that they should have been so far influenced by the example of the patricians, as to await their doom like devoted victims. Čould they be sure that a wished-for death would speedily release them? that wanton cruelty would not protract it by torture? that they should not be driven along as slaves, without regard to their strength, at the mere caprice of the barbarians? They might have defended the walls and the gates, might have maintained a resistance with all sorts of missiles in the interior of the city, might have made many of their enemies share their fate; had the quarters that held out been set fire to, the victor would have been deprived of his spoil. But in fact Livy is the only writer who speaks of this torpid resignation. Others related that, while all the rest of the people quitted their homes, eighty priests and aged patricians of the highest rank sat down in the Forum on their curule thrones in festal robes awaiting death. That such a resolution should have been freely taken by

[As a forewarning here of the comparatively recent Gallic re-invasions of Italy, one may quote what J. J. Ampèred says in his L'histoire romaine à Rome; "To terminate cheerfully the story of the geese of Manlius, I will recall a caricature representing a French soldier plucking a goose on the Capitoline Hill; beneath were the words, Vengeance of a Gaul.'"]

[390 B.C.]

men of the same class, who deemed it intolerable to outlive the republic and the worship of the gods, is by no means improbable; least of all if, after resolving to face death, they solemnly devoted themselves by the hands of the chief pontiff for the republic and for the destruction of her foes. On the other hand it is utterly inconceivable that the chief part of the women and children should not have retired from the city, where every kind of insult and outrage inevitably awaited them, when it was yet possible for them to be saved by flight. It is said that a great number pressed forward at the last moment and gained admittance into the Capitol and the citadel; as if, had this been feasible, they would not all have forced their way in; as if that small place could have held more than the men requisite to defend it, with provisions for them. Finally, the story that the Romans in their despair did not close the gates of the city, and that nothing but the fear of some stratagem withheld the conquerors from marching in, sounds very incredible. On this point, however, we do not want any internal reasons; since the authentic account in Diodorus states that the Gauls, on finding the walls entirely deserted, burst open the gates.

It would be extremely unjust to impute what has here been said about Livy's narrative to a design of detracting from his merits. Such criticisms. cannot impair his imperishable fame. As soon as we cease to call for what

it was Livy's least care to supply, nothing remains to disturb the pleasure which his description must yield to every unprejudiced mind. If there be one so distempered as to forego that pleasure, because his account has been proved to be historically untenable, we may pity, but we must not indulge its perverseness.

A writer who adopts a dry and neglected report in preference to a wellknown and masterly narrative, must justify himself, and show that it is not from the love of paradox, that he has discarded the more beautiful story. [Niebuhr reminds his readers of his previously expressed admiration for Livy with renewed assurances of his entire sincerity. He then concludes thus eloquently]: And in his own peculiar excellencies, in that richness and that warmth of colouring which many centuries after were the characteristics of the Venetian painters born under the same sky, Livy never shone more brilliantly than in this very description; a more vivid one is not to be found in any Latin or Greek historian.e

SEQUEL OF THE GALLIC WAR

We can imagine better than describe the blank dismay with which the Romans, on the departure of the Gauls, must have looked upon their ancient homes. Not only was the country ravaged, as had often happened in days of yore, but the city itself, except the Capitol, was a heap of ruins. It is not strange that once again the plebeians should have thought of quitting Rome forever. Not long before they had wished to migrate to Veii; now, they had actually been living there for many months. Rome no longer existed; patriotism, they said, no longer required them to stand by their ancient home; why should not all depart-patricians with their clients and freedmen, as well as plebeians- and make a new Rome at Veii? In vain Camillus opposed these arguments with all the influence which his late services had given him. Standing in the Forum, under shadow of the Capitol, with the citadel defended by Manlius over their heads, in the sight of their country's gods, now brought back from Cære, the plebeians were

[390-384 B.C.]

ready to agree to a general migration of the whole people, when (so runs the story) a sudden omen changed their hearts. A certain centurion was leading a party of soldiers through the city, and, halting them in the Forum while the question was in hot debate, he used these memorable words: "Standard-bearer, pitch the standard here; here it will be best for us to stay!"

It was therefore resolved to rebuild the city, and the senate did all in their power to hasten on the work. They took care to retrace, as far as might be, the ancient sites of the temples; but it was impossible to prescribe any rules for marking out the streets and fixing the habitations of the citizens. All they did was to supply tiling for the houses at the public expense. So men built their houses where they could, where the ground was most clear of rubbish, or where old materials were most easy to be got. Hence, when these houses came to be joined together by others, so as to form streets, these streets were narrow and crooked, and, what was still worse, were often built across the lines of the ancient sewers, so that there was now no good and effectual drainage. The irregularity continued till Rome was again rebuilt after the great fire in the time of the emperor Nero.

Great were the evils that were caused by this hurry. The healthiness of the city must have been impaired, order and decency must have suffered, but there was one particular evil at the moment which threatened very great mischief. The mass of the people, having little or nothing of their own, or having lost all in the late destruction, were obliged to borrow money in order to complete their dwellings and as tillage had for the last season been nearly suspended, the want and misery that prevailed were great. Now again, as after the wars against the Tarquins, many of the poorer sort were reduced to bondage in the houses of the wealthy.

Then it was that M. Manlius, the defender of the Capitol, stood forth as the patron of the poor. He saw a debtor being taken to prison, whom he recognised as a brave centurion that had formerly served with him in the wars. He instantly paid the man's debt, and set him free. Then, selling the best part of his landed property, he declared that, while he could prevent it, he would never see a fellow-citizen imprisoned for debt. His popularity rose high, and with the poorer sort the name of M. Manlius was more in esteem than that of the great Camillus. Nor did he content himself with relieving want; he also stepped forward as an accuser of the patricians and senators they had divided among themselves, he said, part of the gold which had been raised to pay the Gauls. On the other hand, the patricians asserted that Manlius was endeavouring to make himself tyrant of Rome, and that this was the real purpose of all his generosity. The senate ordered a dictator to be named, and A. Cornelius Cossus was chosen. He summoned Manlius before him, and required him to prove the charge which he had maliciously brought against the ruling body. He failed to do so and was cast into prison, but claimed to be regularly tried before the whole people assembled in their centuries; and his claim was allowed. On the appointed day he appeared in the Campus Martius, surrounded by a crowd of debtors, every one of whom he had redeemed from bondage. Then he exhibited spoils taken from thirty enemies slain by himself in single combat; eight civic crowns, bestowed each of them for the life of a citizen saved in battle, with many other badges given him in token of bravery. He laid bare his breast and showed it all scarred with wounds, and then, turning to the Capitol, he called those gods to aid whom he had saved from the sacrilegious hands of the barbarians. The appeal was felt, and if the centuries had then