by Plutarch
As for Collatinus, it appears that even before this he had begun to attract suspicion on account of his kinship with the royal family.32 Furthermore, because the people loathed Tarquinius, they found the very sound of Collatinus’ other name vexatious. But his behaviour in this most recent affair left him unpopular with everyone. Consequently, he resigned his office and withdrew from the city in secret. When new elections were held, Valerius was gloriously elected consul, a fitting reward for his civic spirit. He decided that Vindicius ought to have a share in this reward, and so he passed a decree that made him the first freedman in Rome to become a citizen and entitled him to vote in whatever curia33 he chose to enrol. At a much later time, other Roman freedmen were granted the right to vote by Appius,34 when he was trying to win popular favour. To this day, according to some authorities, the Romans call full manumission vindicta on account of this very Vindicius.35
8. After these events, the properties of the royal family were handed over to the Roman people to pillage. The king’s house and the whole of his estate were razed to the ground. The most agreeable part of the Campus Martius,36 which had also belonged to Tarquinius, the Romans consecrated to the very god for whom it was named. Now it happened that this land had just been harvested and its grain still lay upon the ground. Because this field had been consecrated, however, they believed it would be wrong to thresh the grain or to put it to any other use, so they agreed to throw the sheaves into the river. In the same way, they also cast into the river any trees that had been cut down. Thus they left in the god’s possession an uncultivated, unproductive land.
The river’s current could not carry such enormous heaps of grain and wood very far. The first of these stuffs to be thrown in soon ran into shallows and began to accumulate in a large deposit. The material that followed could not float by but instead combined and joined with this mass, which was quickly made firm and hardened by the stream as it carried along great quantities of mud, thus adding to the size and increasing the solidity of this aggregation. This was because the water flowed along the mound gently, not forcefully, and in this way moulded and shaped everything into a single whole. Owing to its size and situation, this mass quickly doubled itself, becoming a tract of land capable of capturing most of the materials carried downstream by the river. It is now a sacred island and part of the city of Rome, where it is home to temples and covered walks and in Latin is called Between the Two Bridges.37
Some writers, however, insist that this did not happen when Tarquinius’ land was consecrated but much later, at a time when Tarquinia consecrated a neighbouring field.38 This Tarquinia was a Vestal Virgin and, in recognition of her generosity, received great honours, including the privilege, shared with no other woman, of giving testimony in court. The Roman people also voted that she be allowed to marry, but she refused. Such, at least, is the legend they report.
9. By now Tarquinius had despaired of regaining his throne by seditious means. And so he turned to the Etruscans,39 who, keen to aid him, dispatched a great army to restore him to power. In reaction to this, the consuls led forth the Romans and arrayed them for battle in two sacred precincts, one of which is called the Horatian wood,40 the other the Naevian meadow.41 Not long after the fighting began, Aruns, who was Tarquinius’ son, and Brutus, the consul of Rome, fell upon one another.42 This did not happen by chance, for each man was driven by hatred and anger, the one intent on exacting vengeance from a tyrant and an enemy of his country, the other striking out in retaliation for his exile. They rode swiftly at one another, but both men fought with rage rather than intelligence, heedless of mortal danger, and the result was that each was struck down by the other. Nor was the conclusion of this battle any better than this terrible prelude. After inflicting and suffering losses in equal measure, the two armies were parted by a storm.
Valerius was now at a loss. He did not know the true outcome of the battle, so indiscriminate was the carnage, but could see only that his soldiers were simultaneously discouraged by their own casualties yet heartened by the losses of the enemy. Nevertheless, each side, because its own dead were near and visible while the enemy fallen could only be a matter of conjecture, was more inclined to believe itself defeated than victorious. There soon followed such a night as one might expect in the case of men who had suffered through combat of this kind and silence prevailed in both camps. Suddenly, according to tradition, the wood began to shudder and a loud voice issued forth declaring how, in this battle, the Etruscans had lost one more man than the Romans. This was plainly the voice of a god,43 and it inspired the Romans to raise their war cry loud and bold even as it terrified the Etruscans. Most of them deserted their camp in confusion and fled, while those who remained, barely 5,000 men, were attacked and taken prisoner by the Romans, who also plundered the camp. When the dead were counted, it was found that 11,300 Etruscans had fallen. Roman losses were fewer by only one man. This battle is reported to have taken place on the day before the Calends of March.44
Valerius celebrated a triumph for this victory. He was the first consul to enter the city in a chariot45 pulled by four horses, the occasion of a magnificent and majestic spectacle that was not, as some authorities claim, in any way hateful or offensive to the public as it looked on. Had that been the case, a triumph could not have remained the object of emulation and ambition on the part of the Romans for so many years thereafter. Valerius also won approval for the honours he accorded his colleague, whose funeral he marked with pomp and grandeur. He delivered a speech at Brutus’ funeral that was so pleasing and gratifying to the Romans that ever since that day, on the death of one of Rome’s great men, a funeral oration46 is pronounced by a distinguished citizen. Some believe that Valerius’ funeral oration anticipated the Greek practice,47 unless the custom originated with Solon, as the rhetorician Anaximenes reports.48
10. Valerius did in fact incur the displeasure and hostility of the people, but for a different reason. Brutus, whom the Romans regarded as the father of their liberty, did not think it right that he govern the city alone, which is why he – not once, but twice – chose a colleague to share his power. ‘But this man,’ the people complained, ‘by concentrating all political authority in his own person, is heir not to Brutus’ consulship, to which he has no claim, but rather to the tyranny of Tarquinius. Why has he praised Brutus in words, when in deeds he imitates Tarquinius? For he descends alone to the forum, escorted by all the rods and axes, from a house every bit as grand as the royal residence that he tore down.’ And it was true that Valerius lived in a highly theatrical fashion, inhabiting an ostentatiously large house on a hill called the Velia.49 It hung over the forum and from it one could view everything. The path to this house was steep and difficult, and it was owing to his house’s situation that, whenever Valerius walked down, his lofty procession gave an impression of regal arrogance. Now it is a good thing when powerful men, in charge of great affairs, keep their ears open to frank and truthful words instead of flattery, as subsequent events demonstrated. For when Valerius heard from his friends that, in the opinion of the multitude, he was behaving incorrectly, he did not argue the point or grow angry,50 but quickly assembled a large crew of workmen who, that very night, demolished his house and razed it to the ground.51 When it was day, the Romans gathered in crowds to view what had taken place. They were at once pleased and amazed by Valerius’ high-mindedness, and yet they also were pained by the loss of the house, whose beauty and stateliness they missed, as if it were an actual person whom the envy of others had unjustly brought to ruin. They were also distressed that their consul, like a man without a hearth of his own, was reduced to sharing the houses of others. Indeed, Valerius accepted the hospitality of his friends until the people gave him a site and on it built him a house. This house was more modest than the one he had torn down and it was located in the place where today stands the temple of Vica Pota.52
It was not enough for Valerius that the public see in him a man who was conciliatory and agreeable instead of intimida
ting. He wanted them to hold a similar view of the consulship itself. For this reason, he detached the axes from his fasces and, whenever he came into the assembly, instructed his lictors to lower the fasces53 in the presence of the people, a gesture that increased the majesty of popular authority. This is a custom observed by the consuls to this day. Now, it was hardly the case that in doing this Valerius actually abased himself, as the multitude was mistakenly inclined to believe, but rather, by exercising moderation, he checked and eliminated the people’s envy of his authority, thereby adding as much to his real influence as he appeared to be giving up in political power. It was because of this that the public submitted to him gladly, and willingly obeyed him. They called him Publicola, a name which means he who is concerned for the people. And since he was ultimately better known by this name than by his original ones, it is this name I shall use in writing the remainder of his biography.54
11. He permitted anyone who desired the office to put himself forward as a candidate for the consulship. Before elections took place, however, Publicola took advantage of his being sole consul to enact many excellent and important political reforms. He did this because he did not know who his new colleague would be and was afraid that, owing to jealousy or ignorance, that man might prove obstructionist.
His first act was to replenish the senate’s membership,55 for its numbers had been sorely diminished. Some had been put to death by Tarquinius, while others had recently fallen in battle against the Etruscans. He enrolled, historians tell us, 164 new senators. After this, Publicola enacted several laws, one of which considerably strengthened the power of the multitude by giving anyone who was accused before the consuls the right to appeal his case to the judgement of the people.56 A second law made it a capital offence to hold any magistracy unless it was bestowed by the people. A third measure was designed to bring relief to the poor: it abolished the taxes57 paid by the common people in order to provide an incentive for all of them to be more industrious in their occupations. Even Publicola’s law against disobeying the consuls seemed populist in nature, inasmuch as its terms were drafted in the interest of the many and not of the powerful, for it punished disobedience with a fine of five oxen and two sheep.58 The value of a sheep was 10 obols,59 while that of an ox was 100, for in those days the Romans rarely used coined money and instead their wealth was constituted in their flocks and herds. This is why, even today, the Romans refer to their property as peculia, a word derived from their expression for herds, and their oldest coins were struck with figures of an ox, sheep or pig.60 Indeed, the Romans go so far as to name their sons Suillus, Bubulcus, Caprarius and Porcius (they call goats caprae and pigs porci).61
12. Publicola, then, revealed himself to be a lawgiver who was sensitive to popular rights,62 as well as moderate. In the matter of an offence the enormity of which violates the very idea of moderation, however, he made the punishment extreme. He enacted a law that permitted killing without a trial anyone plotting to make himself a tyrant. Furthermore, he stipulated that the killer be pronounced innocent of murder provided he could furnish evidence of the would-be tyrant’s crime. Now it is impossible for a man endeavouring to make himself tyrant to escape all notice, but it is not at all impossible for him to become so powerful that, by the time his actions attract scrutiny, it is too late to bring him to trial, inasmuch as committing the actual crime of making oneself a tyrant precludes the possibility of being brought to trial for having done so. This is why Publicola authorized, in the case of anyone capable of doing so, the right to carry out the verdict of such a trial.
Publicola is also acclaimed for his law establishing the quaestorship. When it became necessary for Roman citizens to contribute from their own means to defray the costs of their war against the Etruscans, Publicola did not wish to administer these funds himself, nor was he willing to allow his friends to do so – nor did he believe that public monies should be deposited in a private house. Consequently, he made the temple of Saturn a public treasury,63 as it remains to this day, and entrusted the people with the election of two young men as quaestors64 or treasurers. The first men to be elected to this office were Publius Veturius and Marcus Minucius,65 under whose supervision large sums of money were collected, for the tax rolls included the names of 130,000 citizens, not including widows and orphans.66
After introducing these regulations, Publicola received Lucretius,67 the father of Lucretia, as his colleague in the consulship. Inasmuch as Lucretius was the older man, Publicola conceded him priority and handed over the rods which the Romans call fasces. Since that day it has remained the practice that this honour is granted to the senior consul. Lucretius, however, died only a few days afterwards, and another election was held at which Marcus Horatius was chosen as the new consul.68 For the remainder of the year he was Publicola’s colleague.
13. Meanwhile Tarquinius was in Etruria pressing for another war against the Romans. At this time, so it is reported, there occurred a momentous prodigy. While he was still king and had nearly completed building the temple of Capitoline Jupiter,69 Tarquinius, either acting on an oracle or because the idea struck him in some other way, commissioned Etruscan craftsmen in Veii70 to make a chariot of terracotta that he planned to place on the roof of the temple. Not long afterwards he was expelled from Rome. Still, the Etruscans fashioned the chariot and put it in the furnace, but, during the firing, the clay did not contract and shrink, as clay normally does when its moisture evaporates. Instead, it expanded and as it grew its fabric increased in strength and hardness, until it reached proportions that prevented its being easily removed even after the roof and walls of the furnace itself had been torn down. Unsurprisingly, the seers recognized in this event a portent of good fortune and power for whoever possessed this chariot. For this reason, the people of Veii decided to keep it when the Romans asked for it, insisting that it belonged to the Tarquins and not to those who had expelled the Tarquins. Only a few days later, there were chariot races in Veii, and this spectacle took place with the usual degree of excitement and interest. When, however, the winner, freshly crowned, was leading his victorious chariot out of the hippodrome, his horses took fright for no obvious reason – perhaps it was caused by some divinity or owing merely to chance – and they ran off at top speed towards Rome, taking along their charioteer. He struggled in vain to rein in his horses or calm them down, but, overpowered by their sheer force and velocity, he was carried along until they reached the Capitol, where they threw him off at the gate which is today called the Ratumena.71 The Veientines were astounded and frightened by this event, and so allowed the craftsmen to deliver the chariot to the Romans.
14. This temple of Capitoline Jupiter was vowed by Tarquinius,72 the son of Demaratus, when he was waging war against the Sabines, but it was Tarquinius Superbus, his son or grandson,73 who built it. He did not, however, have an opportunity to consecrate the temple because it was not quite finished when he was driven out of Rome. Now that it was completed and suitably adorned, Publicola very much wanted to be the one who performed its dedication. Many of Rome’s leading men, however, were jealous of Publicola, and although they could just tolerate his other honours, which as a legislator and a general he truly deserved, they considered this distinction a different matter. In their view, it ought to be awarded to someone else. Therefore they strongly encouraged Horatius to lodge his own claim to perform the dedication. When later it happened that Publicola’s military duties obliged him to be absent from the city, these men, convinced that they would be foiled if Publicola were actually present in Rome, seized the occasion to secure legislation assigning the temple’s consecration to Horatius. They then led him up to the Capitol. Some authorities, however, claim that the two consuls simply drew lots and that Publicola, despite his preference, received the military command, while Horatius was allotted the dedication.74 In any case, it is easy to see how the matter stood between the two men on the basis of what took place during the actual consecration. It was the Ides of September,75 which ver
y nearly coincides with the full moon of the month of Metageitnion.76 All the people were assembled on the Capitol and ritual silence prevailed. Horatius, after performing the appropriate ceremonies, put his hand on the temple’s door, as is the custom, and began to pronounce the ritual formula for consecration. At that moment, Marcus, the brother of Publicola, who had been standing by the door for a long time just waiting for this opportunity, said, ‘Consul, your son in the Roman camp has perished from sickness.’ This report afflicted all who heard it, but Horatius remained unperturbed and gave only this reply: ‘Cast the body where you like, for I am not submitting to grief.’ He then completed the dedication. Marcus’ announcement was untrue, but he had hoped, by telling this lie, to deter Horatius from performing the consecration.77 But Horatius exhibited admirable resolution, and this remains true whether he had perceived Marcus’ deceit or actually believed the report but remained undisturbed by it.
