[25.1] The following year, about the summer solstice, in the month of August, Servius Servilius and Aulus Verginius succeeded to the consulship, both being men of experience in warfare. To them the Tyrrhenian war, though great and difficult, seemed pure gold in comparison with the conflict inside the city walls. For since the land had gone unsown the preceding winter because the enemy had fortified the adjacent hill against them and had kept up incessant raids, and since not even the merchants any longer imported the usual provisions from outside, Rome suffered from a great scarcity of corn, as the city was then crowded not only with its permanent population, but also with a multitude that had flocked thither from the country. [2] For of adult citizens there were more than 110,000, as appeared by the latest census; and the number of the women, children, domestics, foreign traders and artisans who plied the menial trades — for no Roman citizen was permitted to earn a livelihood as a tradesman or artisan — was not less than treble the number of the citizens. This multitude was not easy to placate; for they were exasperated at their misfortune, and gathering together in the Forum, clamoured against the magistrates, rushed in a body to the houses of the rich and endeavoured to seize without payment the provisions that were stored up by them. [3] In the meantime the tribunes assembled the people, and by accusing the patricians of always contriving some mischief against the poor, and calling them the authors of all the evils which had ever happened at the caprice of Fortune, whose whims men can neither foresee nor guard against, they inspired them with insolence and bitter resentment. [4] The consuls, beset by these evils, sent men with large sums of money to the neighbouring districts to purchase corn, and ordered all those who had stored up more than a moderate amount of corn for their own subsistence to turn it over to the state; and they fixed a reasonable price for it. By these and many other like expedients they put a stop to the lawless actions of the poor and thus got respite for their preparations for war.
[26.1] But when the provisions from outside were slow in coming and all the food supplies in the city had been consumed and there was no other means of averting the evils but to choose one of two courses — either to hazard an engagement with all their forces, in order to drive the enemy out of the country, or by remaining shut up within the walls to perish both by famine and by sedition — they chose the lesser of these evils and resolved to go forth to meet the perils from the enemy. [2] Marching out of the city, therefore, with their forces, they crossed the river about midnight on rafts, and before it was broad daylight encamped near the enemy. The next day they came out of their camp and drew up their army for battle, Verginius commanding the right wing and Servilius the left. [3] The Tyrrhenians, seeing them ready for the contest, rejoiced greatly, believing that by this single battle, if it turned out according to their wish, they would overthrow the empire of the Romans; for they knew that all their foes’ best soldiery was entered in this contest, and they entertained the hope, which was very ill founded, of defeating them with ease, since they had conquered the troops of Menenius when these had been arrayed against them in a disadvantageous position. But after a sharp and protracted battle, in which they killed many of the Romans but lost many more of their own men, they began to retreat gradually toward their camp. [4] Verginius, who commanded the right wing, would not permit his men to pursue the enemy, but urged them to rest content with the advantage they had gained; Servilius, however, who was posted on the other wing, pursued the foes who had faced him, following them for a long distance. But when he reached the heights, the Tyrrhenians face about and, those in the camp coming to their aid, they fell upon the Romans. These, after receiving their attack for a short time, turned their backs and, being pursued down hill, were slain as they became scattered. [5] When Verginius was informed of the plight of the left wing of the army, he led his entire force in battle array by a transverse road that passed over the hill. Then, finding himself in the rear of those who were pursuing his troops, he left a part of his army there to block any who should be sent from the camp to the relief of their comrades, and he himself with the rest attacked the enemy. In the meantime the troops also under Servilius, encouraged by the arrival of their comrades, faced about and, standing their ground, engaged. The Tyrrhenians, being thus surrounded by both forces and being unable either to break through in front, by reason of those who engaged them, or to flee back to their camp, by reason of those who attacked them in the rear, fought bravely but unsuccessfully, and were almost all destroyed. [6] The Romans having thus gained a melancholy victory and the outcome of the battle being not altogether fortunate, the consuls encamped before the bodies of the slain and there spent the following night under the open sky.
The Tyrrhenians who were occupying the Janiculum, when no reinforcements came to them from home, decided to abandon the fortress; and breaking camp in the night, they withdrew to Veii, which lay nearest to them of the Tyrrhenian cities. [7] The Romans, having possessed themselves of their camp, plundered all the effects which the enemy had left behind as being impossible to carry away in their flight, and also seized many of their wounded, part of whom had been left in their tents, while others lay scattered all along the road. [8] For some, eager to be on their way home, were holding out and with hearts stout beyond their strength were persisting in following their comrades; then, when their limbs grew heavy, they collapsed half dead to the ground. These the Roman horsemen slew as they advanced a good distance along the road. And when there was no longer any sign of the enemy, the army razed the fortress and returned to the city with the spoils, carrying with them the bodies of those who had been slain in the battle — a piteous sight to all the citizens by reason both of the number and of the valour of those who had perished. [9] Accordingly, the people did not think it fitting either to hold festival as for a glorious victory or to mourn as for a great and irreparable calamity; and the senate, while ordering the required sacrifices to be offered to the gods, did not permit the consuls to conduct the triumphal procession in token of a victory. A few days later the city was filled with all sorts of provisions, as not only the men who had been sent out by the commonwealth but also those who were accustomed to carry on this trader had brought in much corn; consequently, everybody enjoyed the same abundance as aforetime.
[27.1] The foreign wars being now ended, the civil dissensions began to flare up again as the tribunes once more stirred up the populace. And though all their other measures were defeated as the result of marshalling their forces against every proposal, yet they were unable to suppress the accusation against Menenius, the late consul, in spite of all their efforts, [2] but he was brought to trial by Quintus Considius and Titus Genucius, two of the tribunes. And being called upon to give an accounting of his conduct of the war, the outcome of which had been neither fortunate nor honourable, and being blamed particularly for the destruction of the Fabii and the capture of Cremera, he was condemned by no small majority of the votes when the plebeians passed judgement upon him by tribes — even though he was the son of Agrippa Menenius who had brought the populace home after their secession and reconciled them with the patricians, the son of a man whom the senate after his death had honoured with a most magnificent funeral at the public expense and for whom the Roman matrons had mourned for a whole year, laying aside their purple and gold. [3] However, those who convicted him did not impose death as the penalty, but rather a fine — one which if compared with the fortunes of to-day would appear ridiculous, but to the men of that age, who worked their own farms and aimed at no more than the necessaries of life, and particularly to Menenius, who had inherited poverty from his father, was excessive and oppressive, amounting to 2000 asses. The as was at that time a copper coin weighing a pound, so that the whole fine amounted to sixteen talents of copper in weight. [4] And this appeared invidious to the men of those days, who, in order to redress it, abolished all pecuniary fines, changing them to payments in sheep and oxen, and limiting the number even of these in the case of all fines to be imposed thereafter by the magistrates u
pon private persons. From this condemnation of Menenius the patricians took fresh occasion for resentment against the plebeians and would neither permit them to carry out the allotment of lands nor make any other concession in their favour. [5] And not long afterwards even the populace repented of having condemned him, when they learned of his death. For from that time he no longer entered into any intercourse with his fellow men nor was seen by anyone in any public place; and though it was his privilege by paying his fine not to be excluded from any public doings — for not a few of his friends were ready to pay the fine — he would not accept their offer, but rating his misfortune as a capital sentence and remaining at home and admitting no one, wasted away through dejection and abstinence from food, and so perished. These were the events of that year.
[28.1] When Publius Valerius Publicola and Gaius Nautius had succeeded to the consulship, another of the patricians, Servius Servilius, who had been consul the preceding year, was put on trial for his life not long after laying down his magistracy. Those who cited him to trial before the populace were Lucius Caedicius and Titus Statius, two of the tribunes, who demanded an accounting, not for any crime, but for his bad luck, inasmuch as in the battle against the Tyrrhenians he had pressed forward to the enemy’s camp with greater daring than prudence, and being pursued by the garrison, who rushed out in a body, had lost the flower of the youth. [2] This trial was regarded by the patricians as the most grievous of all; and meeting together, they expressed their resentment and indignation if boldness on the part of generals and their refusal to shirk any danger were going to be made a ground for accusations, in case Heaven opposed their plans, on the part of those who had not faced the dangers; and they reasoned that such trials would in all probability be the cause of cowardice, shirking and the lack of any further initiative on the part of commanders — the very weaknesses through which liberty is lost and supremacy undermined. [3] They earnestly implored the plebeians not to condemn the man, pointing out that they would do great harm to the commonwealth if they punished their generals for being unfortunate. [4] When the time for the trial was at hand, Lucius Caedicius, one of the tribunes, came forward and accused Servilius of having through his folly and inexperience in the duties of a general led his forces to manifest destruction and lost the finest manhood of the army; and he declared that if his colleague had not been informed promptly of the disaster and had not by bringing up his forces in all haste repulsed the enemy and saved their own men, nothing could have prevented the other army from being utterly destroyed and the state from being reduced henceforth to one-half its former members. [5] After he had thus spoken, he produced as witnesses all the centurions who had survived and some of the rank and file, who in the effort to wipe out their own disgrace arising from that defeat and flight were ready to blame the general for the ill success of the engagement. Then, having poured out many words of commiseration for the fate of those who had lost their lives upon that occasion, exaggerated the disaster, and with great contempt of the patricians dwelt at length upon everything else which by exposing their whole order to hatred was sure to discourage all who were intending to intercede for the man, he gave him an opportunity of speaking.
[29.1] Taking up his defence, Servilius said: “If it is to a trial, citizens, that you have summoned me, and you desire an accounting of my generalship, I am ready to make my defence; but if it is to a punishment all determined, and no advantage is to accrue to me for showing that I have not wronged you in any way, take my person and deal with it as you have long desired to do. [2] Indeed, for me it is better to die without a trial than after getting a chance to plead my cause and then failing to convince you — since I should in that case seem to suffer deservedly whatever you determined against me — and you on your part will be less blameworthy for depriving me of the right to plead my cause and for indulging your angry passions while it is still uncertain even whether I have done you any wrong. And your intention will be evident to me by the manner in which you give me a hearing: by your clamour and by your silence I shall judge whether it is to vengeance or to judgement that you have summoned me.” [3] Having said this, he stopped, And when silence followed and then the majority cried out to him to be of good courage and say all that he wished, he resumed his plea and said: “Well then, citizens, if you are to be my judges and not my enemies, I believe I shall easily convince you that I am guilty of no crime. I shall begin my defence with facts with which you are all familiar. I was chosen consul together with that most excellent man, Verginius, at the time when the Tyrrhenians, having fortified against you the hill that commands the city, were masters of all the open country and entertained hopes of speedily overthrowing our empire. There was a great famine in the city, and sedition, and perplexity as to what should be done. [4] Having been brought face to face with so turbulent and so formidable a crisis, I together with my colleague overcame the enemy in two engagements and obliged them to abandon the fort and leave the country, while I soon put an end to the famine by supplying the markets with abundant provisions; and I handed over to my successors not only our territory freed from hostile arms but also our city cured of every political distemper with which the demagogues had infected it. For what wrongdoing, then, am I accountable to you — unless to conquer your enemies is to wrong you? [5] And if some of the soldiers happened to lose their lives in the battle while fighting successfully, in what way has Servilius wronged the people? For naturally no god offers himself as surety to generals for the lives of all who are going into battle; nor do we receive the command of armies upon stated terms and conditions, namely that we are to overcome all our enemies and lose none of our own men. For who that is a mere mortal would consent to take upon himself all the consequences both of his judgement and of his luck? No man, I say; but our great successes we always buy at the cost of great hazards.
[30.1] “Moreover, I am not the first to whom it has fallen to suffer this fate when engaging the enemy, but it has happened to practically all who have risked desperate battles against enemy forces more numerous than their own. For there have been instances when generals after chasing their foes have themselves been put to flight, and while slaying many of their opponents have lost still more of their own men. [2] I shall not add that many even after meeting utter defeat have returned home with ignominy and great loss, yet not one of them has been punished for his bad luck. For the calamity itself is a sufficient punishment, and to receive no praise, as is inevitable, even without anything else, is a great and grievous penalty for a general. Nevertheless, I for my part am so far from maintaining — what all reasonable men will allow to be just — that I do not have to render an accounting of my luck, that, even though no one else was ever willing to submit to such a trial, I alone do not decline to do so, but consent that my luck be inquired into as well as my judgement — after I have first made this one statement: [3] I observe that men’s undertakings, both unsuccessful and successful, are judged, not by the several operations in detail, which are many and various, but by the final outcome. When this turns out according to their hopes, even though the intermediate operations, which are many, may not be to their liking, I nevertheless hear the undertakings praised and admired by all and regarded as the consequences of good luck; but when these measures lead to bad results, even though every measure before the final outcome is carried out with the greatest ease, they are ascribed, not to the good, but to the bad luck of their authors. [4] So, taking this as the target, do you yourselves consider what has been my luck in the various wars; and if you find that I was vanquished by the enemy, call my luck bad, but if I was victorious over them, call it good. On the subject of luck, now, I could say still more; however, as I am not unaware that all who discuss it are tiresome, I will desist.
[31.1] “But since they censure my judgement also, not daring, indeed, to accuse me of treachery or cowardice, the charges on which other generals are tried, but accuse me of inexperience in the duties of a general and imprudence, in that I undertook an unnecessary r
isk in pressing forward to the enemy’s camp, I wish to render you an accounting on that point, too, since I can make the very obvious retort that it is very easy and lies within the power of any man to censure past actions, whereas to venture upon glorious exploits is difficult and within the power of but few; also that it is not so apparent what future events will be as what past events are, but, on the contrary, we apprehend the latter by perception and our experiences, while we conjecture the others by divination and opinions, in which there is much that is deceptive; and again, that it is the easiest thing in the world for people to conduct wars by talk when they stand far from the danger, which is what my accusers do. [2] But, to waive all this, tell me, in the name of the gods, do you regard me as the first or the only man who ever attempted to capture a stronghold by force and led his men against lofty positions? Or have not many others of your generals done the sam, some of whom have succeeded, while the attempt of others has not turned out as they wished? Why in the world, then, did you let the others off but now try me, if you consider these actions to be marks of incapacity and imprudence in a general? How many other undertakings more daring than this does it occur to your generals to attempt when times of crisis will by no means admit of the safe and well-considered course? [3] Some indeed have snatched the standards from their own men and hurled them among the enemy, in order that the indolent and cowardly might perforce gain courage, since they knew that those who failed to recover those standards must be put to death ignominiously by their generals. Others, after invading the enemy’s country, have destroyed the bridges over the rivers what they had crossed, in order that any who entertained thoughts of saving themselves by flight might find their hope vain and so be inspired with boldness and resolution in the battles. [4] Still others by burning their tents and baggage have imposed on their men the necessity of supplying themselves out of the enemy’s country with everything they needed. I omit mentioning all the other instances of the kind, which are countless, and the many other daring actions and expedients of generals that we know of from both history and our own experience, for which no general was ever punished when disappointed in his helps. Unless, indeed, someone among you can bring the charge against me that when I exposed the others to manifest destruction I kept myself out of danger. But if I took my place in the line with all the rest, was last to withdraw and shared the same fortune with the others, of what crime am I guilty? Concerning myself, then, let this suffice.
Delphi Complete Works of Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics Book 79) Page 86
