‘So when you had nowhere else to go you came to Rome. All right, you’ll do. You won’t run away and you won’t join the enemy. But I wish I could meet someone who had come to Rome because Rome was the place he desired, not because to him one place was as good as another.’
‘Give me time. In the north, where I was born, we had scarcely heard of your Latin cities. Rome is at least very lucky. I was trained as a haruspex and I can see that. In the end I may come to like the place as much as any Latin.’
‘Luck! That’s all the young men talk about these days, as though when you have found a lucky city you can sit down and let the gods work for you. Anyway, a King who neglects to avenge his murdered colleague isn’t like to stay lucky to the end of his days. The gods don’t like a man who won’t fight to avenge his comrades.’
‘You and I will do what we can to help the luck of Rome, when we meet the enemy,’ Perperna answered peacefully. Then he marched in silence. If he encouraged his neighbour to grumble the crusty veteran would presently say something so disloyal that a paid celer must report him, and that would never do. There was no sense in making enemies in this foreign community.
Presently they came upon the levy of Camerium waiting for them, drawn up on a gentle ridge; and the luck of Rome held. At the first charge the invaders were pushed back, and once they had got them on the move the Romans went on pushing. Then a Camerine spearman turned round to get away faster, there was a confused eddy in the close-packed line, and as each man began to fear that he could not depend on his neighbour he would also turn to flee. Perperna speared two fugitives in the back, and then did not bother to catch any others; it was too exhausting, and the battle was won anyway. Altogether in this pursuit the Romans killed about six hundred raiders.
When they had stripped the slain and collected the spoil the Romans prepared to return home; but King Romulus had other ideas. The celeres were ordered to get the whole army on the move; the spearmen might drink from a nearby stream, and eat any food they might happen to have with them, for they would march all night to attack Camerium at dawn.
Even Perperna the ex-brigand and Publius the veteran were amazed at this energy, though like the rest of the army they obeyed. They had gained a great victory in the field, very easily and almost without casualties;, now it would be proper to march home and hold a great feast to celebrate their good fortune. Besides, there was the plunder to be divided, and it must be stored in safety. After a victory every far-seeing warrior spent at least one evening by his fireside, boasting to his family; so that his children should remember the glorious deeds of their ancestors. Now King Romulus was making them get on with the war as though they had not already won it.
‘I suppose Mars, his father, put him up to this prank,’ said Perperna with gloomy resignation. ‘It’s warlike enough, and he will frighten the Camerines. But if he thinks that after a day and a night of hard marching we shall have the energy to assault a fortified wall he will have to think again, that’s all. I am a celer, so I can’t very well disobey him. But when he gives orders for the attack I shall just wait and see what the rest of the army does.’
‘It may possibly come off,’ answered Publius as they hurried along in the dusk. ‘It’s a great prize if we can win it. All these years we have been dreaming of the sack of a rich Etruscan city. Now there’s a chance of it. The excitement may carry our men over the wall.’
‘It isn’t worth it, even if we succeed,’ Perperna went on. ‘The men who fled today will be back behind their wall tomorrow, and I know the strength of proper Etruscan fortifications. If we had cut their line of retreat, or destroyed the field army to the last man, we might get in without too much bloodshed. As it is even a victory will cost us more dead than any amount of plunder can make up for.’
‘You are yourself an Etruscan, and you don’t value Etruscan wealth as do we poor Italians. If half the Roman army is killed the other half will think themselves well rewarded. Sabines seldom attack walled cities, because we don’t know how to go about it. But if Romulus and his Latins show us the way we shall follow cheerfully.’
All through the night the weary army scrambled up hills, floundered through swamps, splashed across shallow fast-flowing streams, and blundered in the knee-high heath of uncultivated plains. King Romulus and his few horsemen bustled them along as dogs bustle a flock of sheep. The men caught the feeling of urgency, and instead of complaining began to boast of their toughness. When dawn showed them the wall of Camerium crowning a low but steep bill they cheered raggedly, shouting that only Romans could have accomplished such a march.
At the King’s orders they halted to rest; they were also permitted to eat breakfast, but no one had brought anything to eat. It was a cheerless way to prepare for a stiff fight. ‘Never mind,’ said Publius gallantly, ‘the Camerines will be just as tired as we are.’
‘I’m so tired that I can hardly hold up this shield,’ sighed Perperna. ‘But it’s the King’s shield that I carry, and if he orders me to charge I must obey him. One charge is the most I can do, though. Unless we succeed at the first try we must hurry straight back to Rome.’
‘It looks as though we won’t have to charge even once,’ called Publius in great excitement. ‘Look, they are opening the gate. Here comes an embassy in full state, with olive-branches and trumpets.’
Some Romans cheered, others flopped down to seize this unexpected chance of another rest. It was hard for King Romulus and his celeres to get the weary men once more into battle order, and Perperna felt himself to be a fraud as he nagged at the loungers. But the envoys themselves were exhausted, and the Roman army by the time they reached it was once more upright and in rank, though most unwilling to fight.
No one wanted to begin the war again if a way could be found to an honourable peace; so much was clear from the outset, and the envoys seized their chance. They had barely stated their terms when the celeres were summoned to hear a message and carry it through the army. Perperna limped slowly to the eagle standard that marked headquarters, until a glance from the King’s fiery eye made him stiffen. When his suite was assembled Romulus issued his instructions.
‘I have accepted the surrender of Camerium, but the spearmen must ratify my decision. So when you tell them of the agreement you must make sure they know which way to vote. Silence anyone who wants to fight to the bitter end for the sake of plundering the town. It won’t be difficult to silence him, for we are offered a great deal of plunder without any more fighting. The rulers of the city have agreed to desert the Etruscan League and serve Rome. They offer us as plunder the property of exactly half the citizens, to be chosen by lot. The unlucky ones will move to Rome, and receive a share in the public land. The place of every man who leaves will be filled by two Romans, who will keep their own property and in addition divide what they find here. Of course the buildings and holy places of the city will suffer no harm. There will be no sack, merely a change of ownership. Also there will be no more fighting, and we may march home in peace as soon as we are rested. Now get the men to vote Yes, and take the names of any volunteers who are willing to stay on as Roman settlers. If there are not enough volunteers we can draw lots to make up the remainder. Come back and report to me as soon as you have a favourable vote.’
With the celeres to persuade them, all the Roman spearmen greeted the proposal with shouts of delight.
Quickly the Etruscans piled an altar of unshaped boulders, and a white heifer was led out of the town for sacrifice. Together King Romulus and the Etruscan chief priest poured barley-meal on the victim’s head, and her blood was sprinkled over both armies; now Rome and Camerium were one kin, and it would be parricide if the war began again. The new peace was as binding as political forms and religious ritual could make it. The Romans had nothing further to do but go home.
Yet King Romulus, who ruled by prestige, must first enjoy the trappings of victory. He would lead his men into the city, and offer sacrifice in its templum. Camerium was a small place, and inside
the steep Etruscan wall the houses were rough and poor; but in the holy place stood a monument that made the Romans gasp in admiration.
This was a life-size model of a war chariot cast in pure and precious bronze. The chariot stood empty, its pole resting on a yoke borne by four crude clay horses; whenever Mars wanted to amuse himself he might mount into the empty car and play at driving the toy horses. Mars is known to be rather a childish god.
The leading flies of the conquering army gazed on this masterpiece with awe. They had an uncomfortable feeling that Mars might be standing there now, to make sure that his worshippers were not massacred after they had yielded on terms. Perperna, and his Sabine companions, were even more frightened and impressed when they saw King Romulus jump off his horse and climb without hesitation into the empty chariot.
‘It’s up to my weight,’ he called gaily, ‘and the wheels work. It can move like a real chariot. We shall bring it back to Rome, and put it in my storehouse of sacred things. When we enter the city I shall ride in it. All right, I know it is sacred to Mars, and no mere man should ride in it. But I’m not a mere man. Mars is my father, and he won’t mind lending his fine chariot to his favourite son. Come on. Let’s get the thing off its stand and hoist it on one of the baggage waggons.’
‘Oh dear, and we have to march home behind this impious leader,’ sighed Publius. ‘No good comes of sacrilege, and Mars may take vengeance on the whole army.’
‘Nothing has happened so far,’ Perperna replied with a grin, ‘Perhaps the King really has enough luck to avert the anger of the gods. But in any case you need not share the dangers of his return to Rome. I shall volunteer to stay here. Why don’t you do the same?’
‘No, we are Sabines, all my family. My wife wouldn’t like to live among foreigners. Besides, I know my ploughland, and I would not care to change it. But you are right to stay, since you are a newcomer to Rome and unmarried. Find a local girl, and breed more Romans to guard our winnings when we are too old to fight for them.’
‘That’s just what I’ll do. Rome is a good place, and I’m willing to fight for her. But I shall be all the more loyal if I don’t have to live among a crowd of Romans.’
It took most of the day to get the sacred chariot mounted on an ox-cart, and to check over the civic property of Camerium which now belonged to Rome. King Romulus decided that the conquering army should remain one more night in the town, and that the first Roman settlers should be installed that very evening. An assembly was held in the market-place, and before a large crowd of interested onlookers the practical, brutal, coldblooded business was brought to a satisfactory conclusion.
To begin with the surviving ablebodied citizens of Camerium were divided into pairs. Then the gods decided, by means of the sacred knucklebones, that the left-hand man of each pair should leave his native city and all his possessions, to start life again as a penniless citizen of Rome. The emigrants were permitted to take with them their wives and young children, their aged parents if any, and a single change of clothing. All else, slaves, pots and pans, domestic animals, farm gear, houses and furniture, must become the property of their supplanters. Even though the exiles would be granted full citizenship in their new home they were not allowed to take their weapons, save for one sword for each head of a family; shields and armour were to be left behind. Of course chance had parted brothers and close friends, and many of the defeated Camerines wanted to change places; but this King Romulus would not permit. He did not wish to transplant groups of friends, but rather individual settlers who would look to him for protection from their new fellow-citizens.
After the exiles had been marched off under guard, to camp for the night outside the city which they might never re-enter, it was the turn of the new settlers. Nearly enough volunteers had been collected from the Roman army, and the King had detailed others to make up the number. They were formed in rank, and it was arranged that each pair should draw lots for the property of one exile and then divide it between them. But first there was a rather amusing function, something to make an interlude of frivolity in this solemn business of transferring the ownership of land. Anything to do with women must be funny in itself, since women are comic creatures; that was the assumption of King Romulus and of every serious Roman. A mass-marriage would put the weary troops in a good humour, and at the same time settle a number of tiresome problems.
The six hundred Camerines slain in the pursuit had left a quantity of widows, and the population contained the usual crop of unmarried maidens. These were drawn up in line facing the army, and the bachelors among the volunteers were invited to choose among them.
Perperna was one of the first to choose. As a young bachelor without family ties he was eligible, and as a celer and adherent of King Romulus he was privileged above the majority of his fellow-citizens. For of course there were still not enough women to go round. Rome was full of surplus males, since the fugitives and outlaws who continually flocked there were all men without women of their own.
He would look ridiculous if he walked up to the first woman in the line and seized her; but it was even more ridiculous to examine them carefully, as though he were buying a cow. What were the qualities you sought in a wife? And once you had decided on that, how did you spot the external signs of them? In fact, did he want a wife at all? But he must look as though he were choosing with care, so he peered closely into a row of strange faces.
Most of the widows were weeping, or staring ahead in stony-eyed endurance. A few maidens tried to smile provocatively; though they were more frightened than pleased. It had better be a widow. He was not looking for a pretty girl to share his bed. He was a homeless exile, who had accepted Roman citizenship only because it offered him security; he had no ambition to found a family, and it might happen that later on he would move away. He was seeking a wife only because in Rome such creatures were rare and valuable, and it seemed silly to throw away this unexpected chance of getting one for nothing; he did not seek affection, he wanted a sensible partner to manage his household while he worked his land. This thirty-year-old widow looked sensible; she was plain and strong and could control her emotions. She wore a long tunic of unbleached wool, and her black hair hung unbound in sign of mourning.
‘Where are your children?’ asked Perperna, trying to smile as though he were talking to an equal.
‘I had three, but they died as babies,’ the woman answered in a matter-of-fact voice, lifting her head to stare indifferently into the empty sky.
‘Do you know how your husband died?’ he continued.
‘They tell me he was wounded at the very beginning. Since after that he couldn’t run fast he stood his ground until a Roman knocked him on the head.’
‘Then I am not poluted with his blood. I killed two Camerines, but both were fleeing. So since that impediment is out of the way and you must marry one of us, are you willing to be my wife?’
‘Why not?’ said the woman, glancing at his face for the first time. ‘You don’t look any worse than the others. My name is Vibenna, and my father was Etruscan though my mother was Italian. What do I call you?’
‘I am Perperna, though my family need not be named since they have all been killed by savages. We are of the same race.’ He spoke in Etruscan, glad to think he would be able to speak his native tongue in his new home.
The woman answered casually in Italian. ‘It’s no good speaking the language of the Rasenna to me. I don’t know it. My mother was just a concubine. My dead husband was a citizen, but we were not ruling nobles. Everyone here speaks Italian, except when they speak to the gods.’
‘Very well, Vibenna. My name is Perperna and we shall speak Italian together. You shall be my wife, not my concubine. Roman wives are protected by good laws. This is a new start in life. Make the best of it.’
‘It’s better than being a slave. I can cook, but my children die. If you have chosen me I will lead you to my house.’
‘Not yet my dear. We must wait until King Romulus marries us, i
n a solemn ceremony which calls on the gods to protect our hearths and our happiness. But I don’t want you to stand here to be looked over by all the other young bridegrooms. So come with me while I say good-bye to my friends.’
He took her by the wrist and led her to his place in the ranks, where she squatted on the ground without a word. Publius lounged on a sack a few feet away, and he strolled over to tell him all about it.
‘Phew, that was an unpleasant job. I think our gallant King Romulus is rather beastly. I feel like a slave-dealer. But I’ve got a wife who says she can cook, and who will bring me some sort of a house. So I haven’t done badly out of my first battle.’
‘Unpleasant job you call it, young man? Perhaps it was a little brutal and cold-blooded. But if you see it in the proper light it’s really most humane and merciful. We could have carried Camerium by assault, raped the pretty girls, slaughtered the warriors and then sold the survivors. The town was at our mercy. Instead of that, some of the citizens keep some of their property and the women suffer nothing worse than honourable marriage. Is it harder for them to be picked out at a public parade than to marry the man chosen for them by their parents? If your woman had screamed at the sight of you, wouldn’t you have moved on to choose someone else? So you can comfort yourself by saying that in fact she chose you, as much as any woman can choose the man she will marry. You will shake down together, depend on it. I think you are a very lucky man, and the best part of your luck is that you can’t serve as a celer while you live in Camerium.’
‘You may be right. It’s true that you Romans are generous and merciful. But you go about your deeds of kindness so ungraciously that you seem more brutal than savages. Well, goodbye and thank you for the protection of your shield. Now I must line up with Vibenna to be married by the King.’
10. The Colonist
Founding Fathers Page 19
