[4.1] After these pretences they both prepared themselves for war, not only arming their own forces but also calling to their assistance those of their subjects. And when they had everything ready the two armies drew near to each other and encamped at the distance of forty stades from Rome, the Albans at the Cluilian Ditches, as they are called (for they still preserve the name of the man who constructed them) and the Romans a little farther inside, having chosen the most convenient place for their camp. [2] When the two armies saw each other’s forces neither inferior in numbers nor poorly armed nor to be despised in respect of their other preparations, they lost their impetuous ardour for the combat, which they had felt at first because of their expectation of defeating the enemy by their very onset, and they took thought rather of defending themselves by building their ramparts to a greater height than of being the first to attack. At the same time the most intelligent among them began to reflect, feeling that they were not being governed by the best counsels, and there was a spirit of faultfinding against those in authority. [3] And as the time dragged on in vain (for they were not injuring one another to any notable extent by sudden dashes of the light-armed troops or by skirmishes of the horse), the man who was looked upon as responsible for the war, Cluilius, being irked at lying idle, resolved to march out with his army and challenge the enemy to battle, and if they declined it, to attack their entrenchments. [4] And having made his preparations for an engagement and all the plans necessary for an attack upon the enemy’s ramparts, in case that should prove necessary, when night came on he went to sleep in the general’s tent, attended by his usual guard; but about daybreak he was found dead, no signs appearing on his body either of wounds, strangling, poison, or any other violent death.
[5.1] This unfortunate event appearing extraordinary to everybody, as one would naturally expect, and the cause of it being enquired into — for no preceding illness could be alleged — those who ascribed all human fortunes to divine providence said that this death had been due to the anger of the gods, because he had handled an unjust and unnecessary war between the mother-city and her colony. But others, who looked upon war as a profitable business and thought they had been deprived of great gains, attributed the event to human treachery and envy, accusing some of his fellow citizens of the opposing faction of having made away with him by secret and untraceable poisons that they had discovered. Still others alleged that, being overcome with grief and despair, he had taken his own life, since all his plans were becoming difficult and impracticable and none of the things that he had looked forward to in the beginning when he first took hold of affairs was succeeding according to his desire. But those who were not influenced by either friendship or enmity for the general and based their judgment of what had happened on the soundest grounds were of the opinion that neither the anger of the gods nor the envy of the opposing faction nor despair of his plans had put an end to his life, but rather Nature’s stern law and fate, when once he had finished the destined course which is marked out for everyone that is born. [3] Such, then, was the end that Cluilius met, before he had performed any noble deed. In his place Mettius Fufetius was chosen general by those in the camp and invested with absolute power; he was a man without either ability to conduct a war or constancy to preserve a peace, one who, though he had been at first as zealous as any of the Albans in creating strife between the two cities and for that reason had been honoured with the command after the death of Cluilius, yet after he had obtained it and perceived the many difficulties and embarrassments with which the business was attended, no longer adhered to the same plans, but resolved to delay and put off matters, since he observed that not all the Albans now had the same ardour for war and also that the victims, whenever he offered sacrifice concerning battle, were unfavourable. [4] And at last he even determined to invite the enemy to an accommodation, taking the initiative himself in sending heralds, after he had been informed of a danger from the outside which threatened both the Albans and Romans, a danger which, if they did not terminate their war with each other by a treaty, was unavoidable and bound to destroy both armies. The danger was this:
[6.1] The Veientes and Fidenates, who inhabited large and populous cities, had in the reign of Romulus engaged in a war with the Romans for command and sovereignty, and after losing many armies in the course of the war and being punished by the loss of part of their territory, they had been forced to become subjects of the conquerors; concerning which I have given a precise account in the preceding Book. But having enjoyed an uninterrupted peace during the reign of Numa Pompilius, they had greatly increased in population, wealth and every other form of prosperity. Elated, therefore, by these advantages, they again aspired to freedom, assumed a bolder spirit and prepared to yield obedience to the Romans no longer. [2] For a time, indeed, their intention of revolting remained undiscovered, but during the Alban war it became manifest. For when they learned that the Romans had marched out with all their forces to engaged the Albans, they thought that they had now got the most favourable opportunity for their attack, and through their most influential men they entered into a secret conspiracy. It was arranged that all who were capable of bearing arms should assemble in Fidenae, going secretly, a few at a time, so as to escape as far as possible the notice of those against whom the plot was aimed, [3] and should remain there awaiting the moment when the armies of the Romans and Albans should quit their camps and march out to battle, the actual time to be indicated to them by means of signals given by some scouts posted on the mountains; and as soon as the signals were raised they were all to take arms and advance in haste against the combatants (the road leading from Fidenae to the camps was not a long one, but only a march of two or three hours at most), and appearing on the battlefield at the time when presumably the conflict would be over, they were to regard neither side as friends, but whether the Romans or the Albans had won, were to slay the victors. This was the plan of action on which the chiefs of those cities had determined. [4] If, therefore, the Albans, in their contempt for the Romans, had rushed more boldly into an engagement and had resolved to stake everything upon the issue of a single battle, nothing could have hindered the treachery contrived against them from remaining secret and both their armies from being destroyed. But as it was, their delay in beginning war, contrary to all expectations, and the length of time they employed in making their preparations were bringing their foes’ plans to nought. For some of the conspirators, either seeking to compass their private advantage or envying their leaders and those who had been the authors of the undertaking or fearing that others might lay information — a thing which has often happened in conspiracies where there are many accomplices and the execution is long delayed — or being compelled by the will of Heaven, which could not consent that a wicked design should meet with success, informed their enemies of the treachery.
[7.1] Fufetius, upon learning of this, grew still more desirous of making an accommodation, feeling that they now had no choice left of any other course. The king of the Romans also had received information of this conspiracy from his friends in Fidenae, so that he, too, made no delay but hearkened to the overtures made by Fufetius. When the two met in the space between the camps, each being attended by his council consisting of persons of competent judgment, they first embraced, according to their former custom, and exchanged the greetings usual among friends and relations, and then proceeded to discuss an accommodation. [2] And first the Alban leader began as follows:
“It seems to me necessary to begin my speech by setting forth the reasons why I have determined to take the initiative in proposing a termination of the war, though neither defeated by you Romans in battle nor hindered from supplying my army with provisions nor reduced to any other necessity, to the end that you may not imagine that a recognition of the weakness of my own force or a belief that yours is difficult to overcome makes me seek a plausible excuse for ending the war. For, should you entertain such an opinion of us, you would be intolerably severe, and, as if you were a
lready victorious in the war, you could not bring yourself to do anything reasonable. [3] In order, therefore, that you may not impute to me false reasons for my purpose to end the war, listen to the true reasons. My country have been appointed me general with absolute power, as soon as I took over the command I considered what were the causes which had disturbed the peace of our cities. And finding them trivial and petty and of too little consequence to dissolve so great a friendship and kinship, I concluded that neither we Albans nor you Romans had been governed by the best counsels. [4] And I was further convinced of this and led to condemn the great madness that we both have shown, an once I had taken hold of affairs and began to sound out each man’s private opinion. For I found that the Albans neither in their private meetings nor in their public assemblies were all of one mind regarding the war; and the signs from Heaven, whenever I consulted the victims concerning battle, presenting, as they did, far greater difficulties than those based on human reasoning, caused me great dismay and anxiety. [5] In view, therefore, of these considerations, I restrained my eagerness for armed conflicts and devised delays and postponements of the war, in the belief that you Romans would make the first overtures towards peace. And indeed you should have done this, Tullius, since you are our colony, and not have waited till your mother-city set the example. For the founders of cities have a right to receive as great respect from their colonies as parents from their children. [6] But while we have been delaying and watching each other, to see which side should first make friendly overtures, another motive, more compelling than any arguments drawn from human reason, has arisen to draw us together. And since I learned of this while it was yet a secret to you, I felt that I ought no longer to aim at appearances in concluding peace. For dreadful designs are being formed against us, Tullius, and a deadly plot has been woven against both of us, a plot which was bound to overwhelm and destroy us easily and without effort, bursting upon us like a conflagration or a flood. [7] The authors of these wicked designs are the chiefs of the Fidenates and Veientes, who have conspired together. Hear now the nature of their plot and how the knowledge of their secret design came to me.”
[8.1] With these words he gave to one of those present the letters which a certain man had brought to him from his friends at Fidenae, and desired him to read them out; and at the same time he produced the man who had brought the letters. After they were read and the man had informed them of everything he had learned by word of mouth from the persons who had despatched the letters, all present were seized with great astonishment, as one would naturally expect upon their hearing of so great and so unexpected a danger. Then Fufetius, after a short pause, continued:
[2] You have now heard, Romans, the reasons why I have thus far been postponing armed conflicts with you and have now thought fit to make the first overtures concerning peace. After this it is for you to consider whether, in order to avenge the seizure of some miserable oxen and sheep, you ought to continue to carry on an implacable war against year founders and fathers, in the course of which, whether conquered or conquerors, you are sure to be destroyed, or, laying aside your enmity toward your kinsmen, to march with us against our common foes, who have plotted not only to revolt from you but also to attack you — although they have neither suffered any harm nor had any reason to fear that they should suffer any — and, what is more, have not attacked us openly, according to the universally recognized laws of war, but under cover of darkness, so that their treachery could least be suspected and guarded against. [3] But I need say no more to convince you that we ought to lay aside our enmity and march with all speed against these impious men (for it would be madness to think otherwise), since you are already resolved and will pursue that resolution. But in what manner the terms of reconciliation may prove honourable and advantageous to both cities (for probably you have long been eager to hear this) I shall now endeavour to explain. [4] For my part, I hold that that mutual reconciliation is the best and the most becoming to kinsmen and friends, in which there is no rancour nor remembrance of past injuries, but a general and sincere remission of everything that has been done or suffered on both sides; less honourable than this form of reconciliation is one by which, indeed, the mass of the people are absolved of blame, but those who have injured one another are compelled to undergo such a trial as reason and law direct. [5] Of these two methods of reconciliation, now, it is my opinion that we ought to choose the one which is the more honourable and magnanimous, and we ought to pass a decree of general amnesty. However, if you, Tullius, do not wish a reconciliation of this kind, but prefer that the accusers and the accused should mutually give and receive satisfaction, the Albans are also ready to do this, after first settling our mutual hatreds. And if, besides this, you have any other method to suggest which is either more honourable or more just, you cannot lay it before us too soon, and for doing so I shall be greatly obliged to you.”
[9.1] After Fufetius had thus spoken, the king of the Romans answered him and said:
“We also, Fufetius, felt that it would be a grave calamity for us if we were forced to decide this war between kinsmen by blood and slaughter, and whenever we performed the sacrifices preparatory to war we were forbidden by them to begin an engagement. As regards the secret conspiracy entered into by the Fidenates and Veientes against us both, we have learned of it, a little ahead of you, through our friends in their midst, and we are not unprepared against their plot, but have taken measures not only to suffer no mischief ourselves but also to punish those foes in such a manner as their treachery deserves. Nor were we less disposed than you to put an end to the war without a battle rather than by the sword; [2] yet we did not consider it fitting that we should be the first to send ambassadors to propose an accommodation, since we had not been the first to begin the war, but had merely defended ourselves against those who had begun it. But once you are ready to lay down your arms, we will gladly receive your proposal, and will not scrutinize too closely the terms of the reconciliation, but will accept those that are the best and the most magnanimous, forgiving every injury and offence we have received from the city of Alba — if, indeed, those deserve to be called public offences of the city for which your general Cluilius was responsible, and has paid no mean penalty to the gods for the wrongs he did us both. [3] Let every occasion, therefore, for complaint, whether private or public, be removed and let no memory of past injuries any longer remain — even as you also, Fufetius, think fitting. Yet it is not enough for us to consider merely how we may compose our present enmity toward one another, but we must further take measures to prevent our ever going to war again; for the purpose of our present meeting is not to obtain a postponement but rather an end of our evils. What settlement of the war, therefore, will be enduring and what contribution must each of us make toward the situation, in order that we may be friends both now and for all time? This, Fufetius, you have omitted to tell us; but I shall endeavour to go on and supply this omission also. [4] If, on the one hand, the Albans would cease to envy the Romans the advantages they possess, advantages which were acquired not without great perils and many hardships (in any case you have suffered no injury at our hands, great or slight, but you hate us for this reason alone, that we seem to be better off than you); and if, on the other hand, the Romans would cease to suspect the Albans of always plotting against them and would cease to be on their guard against them as against enemies (for no one can be a firm friend to one who distrusts him). [5] How, then, shall each of these results be brought about? Not by inserting them in the treaty, nor by our both swearing to them over the sacrificial victims — for these are small and weak assurances — but by looking upon each other’s fortunes as common to us both. For there is only one cure, Fufetius, for the bitterness which men feel over the advantages of others, and that is for the envious no longer to regard the advantages of the envied as other than their own. [6] In order to accomplish this, I think the Romans ought to place equally at the disposal of the Albans all the advantages they either now or shall hereaf
ter possess; and that the Albans ought cheerfully the accept this offer and all of you, if possible, or at least the most and the best of you, become residents of Rome. Was it not, indeed, a fine thing for the Sabines and Tyrrhenians to leave their own cities and transfer their habitation to Rome? And for you, who are our nearest kinsmen, will it not accordingly be a fine thing if this same step is taken? [7] If, however, you refuse to inhabit the same city with us, which is already large and will be larger, but are going to cling to your ancestral hearths, do this at least: appoint a single council to consider what shall be of advantage to each city, and give the supremacy to that one of the two cities which is the more powerful and is in a position to render the greater services to the weaker. This is what I recommend, and if these proposals are carried out I believe that we shall then be lasting friends; whereas, so long as we inhabit two cities of equal eminence, as at present, there never will be harmony between us.”
Delphi Complete Works of Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics Book 79) Page 21
