The Roman Traitor, Vol. 1
Page 15
CHAPTER XII.
THE FORGE.
I saw a smith stand with his hammer thus, The whilst his iron did on anvil cool. KING JOHN.
It was the evening of the sixteenth day before the calends of November,or, according to modern numeration, the eighteenth of October, the eve ofthe consular elections, when a considerable number of rough hardy-lookingmen were assembled beneath the wide low-browed arch of a blacksmith'sforge, situated near the intersection of the Cyprian Lane with the SacredWay, and commanding a full view of the latter noble thoroughfare.
It was already fast growing dark, and the natural obscurity of the hourwas increased by the thickness of the lowering clouds, which overspreadthe whole firmament of heaven, and seemed to portend a tempest. But fromthe jaws of the semicircular arch of Roman brick, within which the groupwas collected, a broad and wavering sheet of light was projected far intothe street, and over the fronts of the buildings opposite, rising andfalling in obedience to the blast of the huge bellows, which might beheard groaning and laboring within. The whole interior of the roomy vaultwas filled with a lurid crimson light, diversified at times by a brighterand more vivid glare as a column of living flame would shoot up from theembers, or long trains of radiant sparks leap from the bounding anvil.Against this clear back ground the moving figures of the strong limbedgrimy giants, who plied their mighty sledges with incessant zeal on thered hot metal, were defined sharply and picturesquely; while alternatelyred lights and heavy shadows flickered across the forms and features ofmany other men, who stood around watching the progress of the work, andoccasionally speaking rapidly, and with a good deal of gesticulation, atintervals when the preponderant din of hammers ceased, and permittedconversation to be carried on audibly.
At this moment, however, there was no such pause; for the embers in thefurnace were at a white heat, and flashes of lambent flame were leapingout of the chimney top, and vanishing in the dark clouds overhead. A dozenbars of glowing steel had been drawn simultaneously from the charcoal, andthrice as many massive hammers were forging them into the rude shapes ofweapons on the anvils, which, notwithstanding their vast weight, appearedto leap and reel, under the blows that were rained upon them faster thanhail in winter.
But high above the roar of the blazing chimney, above the din of thegroaning stithy, high pealed the notes of a wild Alcaic ode, to which,chaunted by the stentorian voices of the powerful mechanics, the clangingsledges made a stormy but appropriate music. "Strike, strike the iron,"thus echoed the stirring strain,
Strike, strike the iron, children o' Mulciber, Hot from the charcoal cheerily glimmering! Swing, swing, my boys, high swing the sledges! Heave at it, heave at it, all! Together! Great Mars, the war God, watches ye laboring Joyously. Joyous watches the gleam o' the Bright sparkles, upsoaring the faster, Faster as our merry blows revive them. Well knoweth He that clang. It arouses him, Heard far aloof! He laughs on us hammering The sword, the clear harness of iron, Armipotent paramour o' Venus.---- Red glows the charcoal. Bend to the task, my boys, Time flies apace, and speedily night cometh, When we no more may ply the anvil; Fate cometh eke, i' the murky midnight. Mark ye the pines, which rooted i' rocky ground,(17) Brave Euroclydon's onset at evening. Day dawns. The tree, which stood the tallest, Preeminent i' the leafy greenwood, Now lies the lowest. Safely the arbutus, Which bent before him, flourishes, and the sun Wakens the thrush, which slept securely Nestled in its emerald asylum. So, when the war-shout peals i' the noon o' night, Rousing the sleepers fearful, in ecstacy When slaves avenge their wrongs, arising Strong i' the name o' liberty new born, When fury spares not beauty nor innocence, First flame the grandest domes. I' the massacre, First fall the noblest. Lowly virtue Haply the shade o' poverty defends. Forge then the broad sword. Quickly the night cometh, When red the streets with gore o' the mightiest Shall fiercely flow, like Tiber in flood. Rise then, avenger, the time it hath come! Wake bloody tyrants from merry banquetting, From downy couches, snowy-bosomed women And ruby wine-cups, wake--The avenger Springs to his arms, for the time it hath come!
The wild strain ceased, and with it the clang of the hammers, the bars ofsteel being already beaten into the form of those short massive two-edgedblades, which were the Roman's national and all victorious weapon. But, asit ceased, a deep stern hum of approbation followed, elicited probably bysome real or fancied similitude between the imagery of the song, and thecircumstances of the auditors, who were to a man of the lowest order ofplebeians, taught from their cradles to regard the nobles, and perhapswith too much cause, as their natural enemies and oppressors. When thebrief applause was at an end, one of the elder bystanders addressed theprincipal workman, at the forge, in a low voice.
"You are incautious, Caius Crispus, to sing such songs as this, and atsuch a time, too."
"Tush, Bassus," answered the other, "it is you who are too timid. Whatharm is there, I should like to know, in singing an old Greek song doneinto Latin words? I like the rumbling measure, for my part; it suits wellwith the clash and clang of our rude trade. For the song, there is nooffence in it; and, for the time, it is a very good time; and, to poor menlike us, a better time is coming!"
"Oh! well said. May it be so!" exclaimed several voices in reply to thestout smith's sharp words.
But the old man was not so easily satisfied, for he answered at once. "Ifany of the nobles heard it, they would soon find offence in it, my Caius!"
"Oh! the nobles--the nobles, and the Fathers! I am tired of hearing of thenobles. For my part, I do not see what makes them noble. Are they a whitstronger, or braver, or better man than I, or Marcus here, or any of us? Itrow not."
"Wiser--they are at least wiser, Caius," said the old man once more, "inthis, if in nothing else, that they keep their own councils, and stand bytheir own order."
"Aye! in oppressing the poor!" replied a new speaker.
"Right, Marcus," said a second; "let them wrangle as much as they may withone another, for their dice, their women, or their wine; in this at leastthey all agree, in trampling down the poor."
"There is a good time coming," replied the smith; "and it is very near athand. Now, Niger," he continued, addressing one of his workmen, "carrythese blades down to the lower workshop; let Rufus fit them instantly withhorn handles; and then, see you to their grinding! Never heed polishingthem very much, but give them right keen edges, and good stabbing points."
"I do not know," answered the other man to the first part of the smith'sspeech. "I am not so sure of that."
"You don't know what I mean," said Crispus, scornfully.
"Yes. I do--right well. But I am not so confident, as you are, in these newleaders."
The smith looked at him keenly for a moment, and then said significantly,"_do_ you know?"
"Aye! do I," said the other; and, a moment afterward, when the eyes of thebystanders were not directly fixed on him, he drew his hand edgewiseacross his throat, with the action of one severing the windpipe.
Caius Crispus nodded assent, but made a gesture of caution, glancing hiseye toward one or two of the company, and whispering a moment afterward,"I am not sure of those fellows."
"I see, I see; but they shall learn nothing from what I say." Then raisinghis voice, he added, "what I mean, Caius, is simply this, that I have noso very great faith in the promises of this Sergius Catiline, even if heshould be elected. He was a sworn friend to Sylla, the people's worstenemy; and never had one associate of the old Marian party. Believe me, heonly wants our aid to set himself up on the horse of state authority; andwhen he is firm in the saddle, he will ride us down under the hoofs ofpatrician tyranny, as hard as any Cato, or Pompey, of them all."
Six or seven of the foremost group, immediately about the anvil when thisdiscourse was going on,
interchanged quick glances, as the man used theword elected, on which he laid a strong and singular emphasis, and noddedslightly, as indicating that they understood his more secret meaning. All,however, except Crispus, the owner of the forge, seemed to be moved bywhat he advanced; and the foreman of the anvil, after musing for a moment,as he leaned on his heavy sledge, said, "I believe you are right; no onebut a Plebeian can truly mean well, or be truly fitted for a leader toPlebeians."
"You are no wiser than Crispus," interposed the old man, who had spokenfirst, in a low angry whisper. "Do you want to discourage these fellowsfrom rising to the cry, when it shall be set up? If this be all that youcan do, it were as well to close the forge at once."
"Which I shall do forthwith," said Caius Crispus; "for I have got throughmy work and my lads are weary; but do not you go away, my gossips; nor youeither," he added, speaking to the man whom he had at first suspected,"tarry you, under one pretext or other; we will have a cup of wine, assoon as I have got rid of these fellows. Here, Aulus," turning to hisforeman, "take some coin out of my purse, there it hangs by my clean tunicin the corner, and go round to the wine shop, and bring thence a skinfulof the best Sabine vintage; and some of you bar up the door, all but thelittle wicket. And now, my friends, good night; it is very late, and I amgoing to shut up the shop. Good night; and remember that the only hope ofus working men lies in the election of Catiline tomorrow. Be in the Campusearly, with all your friends; and hark ye, you were best take your knivesunder your tunics, lest the proud nobles should attempt to drive us fromthe ballot."
"We will, we will!" exclaimed several voices. "We will not be cozened outof our votes, or bullied out of them either. But how is this? do not youvote in your class?"
"I vote _with_ my class! with my fellow Plebeians and mechanics, I wouldsay! What if I be one of the armorers of the first class, think you that Iwill vote with the proud senators and insolent knights? No, brethren, notone of us, nor of the carpenters either, nor of the trumpeters, orhorn-blowers! Plebeians we are, and Plebeians we will vote! and let metell you to look sharp to me, on the Campus; and whatever I do, so do ye.Be sure that good will come of it to the people!"
"We will, we will!" responded all his hearers, now unanimous. "Braveheart! stout Caius Crispus! We will have you a tribune one of these days!but good night, good night!"
And, with the words, all left the forge, except the smith and his peculiarworkmen, and two or three others, all clients of the Praetor Lentulus, andall in some degree associates in the conspiracy. None of them, however,were initiated fully, except Caius himself, his foreman, Aulus, the agedBassus, and the stranger; who, though unknown to any one present, hadgiven satisfactory evidence that he was privy to the most atrociousportions of the plot. The wine was introduced immediately, and after adeep draught, circulated more than once, the conversation was resumed bythe initiated, who were now left alone.
"And do you believe," said the stranger, addressing Caius Crispus, "thatCatiline and his companions have any real view to the redress ofgrievances, the regeneration of the state, or the equalization ofconditions?"
"Not in the least, I," answered the swordsmith. "Do you?"
"I did once."
"I never did."
"Then, in the name of all the Gods, why did you join with them?"
"Because by the ruin of the great and noble, the poor must be gainers.Because I owe what I can never pay. Because I lust for what I can neverwin--luxury, beauty, wealth, and power! And if there come a civil strife,with proscription, confiscation, massacre, it shall go hard with CaiusCrispus, if he achieve not greatness!"
"And you," said the man, turning short round, without replying to thesmith, and addressing the aged Bassus, "why did you join the plotters, youwho are so crafty, so sagacious, and yet so earnest in the cause?"
"Because I have wrongs to avenge," answered the old man fiercely; a fieryflush crimsoning his sallow face, and his eye beaming lurid rage. "Wrongs,to repay which all the blood that flows in patrician veins were but toosmall a price!"
"Ha?" said the other, in a tone half meditative and half questioning, butin truth thinking little of the speaker, and reflecting only on thepersonal nature of the motives, which seemed to instigate them all. "Ha,is it indeed so?"
"Man," cried the old conspirator, springing forward and catching him bythe arm. "Have you a wife, a child, a sister? If so, listen! you canunderstand me! I am, as you see old, very old! I have scars, also, all infront; honorable scars, of wounds inflicted by the Moorish assagays, ofJugurtha's desert horsemen--by the huge broad swords of the Teutones andCimbri. My son, my only son fell, as an eagle-bearer, in the front rank ofthe hastati of the brave tenth legion--for we had wealth in those days, andboth fought and voted in the centuries of the first class. But our fieldswere uncultivated, while we were shedding our best blood for the state;and to complete the ruin, my rural slaves broke loose, and joinedSpartacus the gladiator. Taken, they died upon the cross; and I was quiteundone. Law suits and usury ate up the rest; and, for these eight yearspast, old Bassus has been penniless, and often cold, and always hungry.But if this had been all, it is a soldier's part to bear cold andhunger--but not to bear disgrace. Man, there have been gyves on theselegs--the whip has scarred these shoulders! Ye great Gods! the whip! forwhat have the poor to do with their Portian or Valerian laws? Nor was thisall--the eagle-bearer left a child, a sweet, fair, gentle girl, the imageof my gallant boy, the only solace of my famishing old age. I told you shewas fair--fatally fair--too fair for a plebeian's daughter, a plebeian'swife! Her beauty caught the lustful eyes, inflamed the brutal heart of apatrician, one of the great Cornelii. It is enough! She was torn from myhouse, dishonored, and sent home, to die by her own hand, that would notpardon that involuntary sin! She died; the censors heard the tale; andscoffed at the teller of it! and that Cornelius yet sits in the senate;those censors who approved his guilt yet live--I say _live_! Is not thatcause enough why I should join the plotters?"
"I cannot answer, No!" replied the other; "and you, Aulus, what is yourreason?"
"I would win me a noble paramour. Hortensia's Julia is very soft andbeautiful."
The stranger looked at him steadily for a moment, and an expression ofdisgust and horror crept over his bold face. "Alas!" he said at length,speaking, it would seem, to himself rather than to the others, "poor Rome!unhappy country!"
But, as he spoke, the strong smith, whose suspicion would seem to havebeen excited, stepped forward and laid his hand upon the stranger'sshoulder. "Look you," he said, "master. None of us know you here, I think,and we should all of us be glad to know, both who you are, and, if indeedyou be of the faction, wherefore _you_ joined it, that you so closelyscrutinize our motives."
"Because I was a fool, Caius Crispus; because I believed that, for a greatstake, Romans might yet forget _self_, base and sordid _self_, and act asbecomes patriots and men! Because I dreamed, smith, till morning lightcame back, and I awakened, and--"
"And the dream!" asked the smith eagerly, grasping the handle of his heavyhammer firmly, and setting his teeth hard.
"Had vanished," replied the other calmly, and looking him full in the eye.
"Bar the door, Aulus," cried the smith, hastily. "This fellow must diehere, or he will betray us," and he caught him by the throat, as he spoke,with an iron grip, to prevent him from calling out or giving the alarm.
But the stranger, though not to be compared in bulk or muscularproportions with the gigantic artizan, shook off his grasp withcontemptuous ease, and answered with a scornful smile,
"Betray you!--tush, I am Fulvius Flaccus."
Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of the smith, he could not haverecoiled with wilder wonder.
"What, Fulvius Flaccus, to whose great wrongs all injuries endured by usare but as flea-bites! Fulvius, the grandson of that Fulvius Flaccus,who--"
"Was murdered by Opimius, while striving for the liberties of Romans. Butwhat is this! By Mars and Quirinus! there is something afoot without!"
The others were beside him in an instant, with terror and amazement ontheir faces.
They had not long to wait, before the cause of their alarm became visible.It was a band of some five hundred stout young men of the upper classes,well armed with swords and the oblong bucklers of the legion, thoughwearing neither casque nor cuirass, led by a curule aedile, who wasaccompanied by ten or twelve of the equestrian order, completely armed,and preceded by his _apparitores_ or beadles, and half a dozentorch-bearers.
These men passed swiftly on, in treble file, marching as fast as theycould down the Sacred Way, until they reached the intersection of thestreet of Apollo; by which they proceeded straight up the ascent of thePalatine, whereon they were soon lost to view, among the splendid edificesthat covered its slope and summit.
"By all the Gods!" cried Caius Crispus, "This is exceedingly strange! Anarmed guard at this time of night!"
"Hist! here is something more."
And, as old Bassus spoke, Antonius, the consul, who was supposed to beattached to the faction of Catiline, came down a bye-street, from thelower end of the Carinae, preceded by his torch-bearers, and followed by alictor(18) with his fasces. He was in full dress too, as one of thepresiding magistrates of the senate, and bore in his hand his ivorysceptre, surmounted by an eagle.
As soon as he had passed the door of the forge, Crispus stepped out intothe street, motioning his guests to follow him, and desiring his foremanto lock the door.
"Let us follow the Consul, at a distance," he exclaimed, "my Bassus; for,as our Fulvius says, there is assuredly something afoot; and it may bethat it shall be well for us to know it: Come, let us follow quickly."
They hurried onward, as he proposed; and keeping some twenty or thirtypaces in the rear of the Consul's train, soon reached the foot of thestreet of Apollo. At this point, however, Antonius paused with his lictor;for, in the opposite direction coming up from the Cerolian place towardthe Forum, another line of torches might be seen flaming through thedarkness, and, even at that distance, the axe heads of the lictors werevisible, as they flashed out by fits in the red torch-light.
"By all the Gods!" whispered Bassus, "it is the other consul, the new manfrom Arpinum. Believe me, my friends, this bodes no good to us! The Senatemust have been convoked suddenly--and lo! here come the fathers. Look,look! this is stern Cato."
And, almost as he said the words, a powerfully made and very noble lookingman passed so near as to brush the person of the mechanic with the foldsof his toga. His face, which was strongly marked, was stern certainly; butit was with the sternness of gravity and deep thought, coupled perhapswith something of melancholy--for it might be that he despaired at times ofman's condition in this world, and of his prospects in the next--not ofausterity or pride. His garb was plain in the extreme, and, although histunic displayed the broad crimson facings, and his robe the passmenting ofsenatorial rank, both were of the commonest materials, and the narrowestand most simple cut.
"Hail, noble Cato!" said the mechanic, as the senator passed by; but hisvoice faltered as he spoke, and there was something hollow and heartlessin the tones, which conveyed the greeting.
Cato raised his eyes, which had been fixed on the ground in meditation,and perused the features of the speaker with a severe and scrutinizinggaze; and then, shaking his head sternly, as if dissatisfied with theresult of his observation, "This is no time of night, sirrah smith," hesaid, "for thee, or such as thou, to be abroad. Thy daily work done, thoushouldst be at home with thy wife and children, not seeking profligateadventures, or breeding foul sedition in the streets. Go home! go home!for shame on thee! thou art known and marked."
And the severe and virtuous noble strode onward, unattended he by anytorch-bearer, or freedman, and soon joined his worthy friend, the greatLatin orator, who had come up, and having united his train to that of theother consul, was moving up the Palatine.
In the meantime senator after senator arrived, some alone, with theirslaves or freedmen lighting them along the streets; others in groups oftwo or three, all hurrying toward the Palatine. The smith and his friends,who had been at first the sole spectators of the shew, were now everymoment joined by more and more of the rabble, until a great concourse wasassembled; through which the nobles had some difficulty in forcing theirway toward the Temple of Apollo, in which their order was assembling,wherefore as yet they knew not.
At first the crowd was orderly enough, and quiet; but gradually beginningto ferment and grow warm, as it were by the closeness of its packing,cheers were heard, and loud acclamations, as any member of the popularfaction made his way through it; and groans and yells and even cursessucceeded, as any of the leaders of the aristocratic party strove to partits reluctant masses.
And now a louder burst of acclamations, than any which had yet been heard,rang through the streets, causing the very roofs to tremble.
"What foolery have we here?" said the smith very sullenly, who, though heresponded nothing to it, had by no means recovered from the rebuke ofCato. "Oh! yes! I see, I see," and he too added the power of hisstentorian lungs to the clamor, as a young senator, splendidly dressed,and of an aspect that could not fail to attract attention, entered thelittle space, which had been kept open at the corner of the two streets,by the efforts of an aedile and his beadles, who had just arrived on theground.
He was not much, if at all, above the middle size, but admirablyproportioned, whether for feats of agility and strength, or for thelighter graces of society. But it was his face more especially, and themagnificent expression of his features, that first struck the beholder--thebroad imaginative brow, the keen large lustrous eye, pervading, clear,undazzled as the eagle's, the bold Roman nose, the resolute curve of theclean-cut mouth, full of indomitable pride and matchless energy--all thesebespoke at once the versatile and various genius of the great statesman,orator, and captain, who was to be thereafter.
At this time, however, although he was advancing toward middle age, andhad already shaken off some of the trammels which luxurious vice andheedless extravagance had cast around his young puissant intellect, he hadachieved nothing either of fame or power. He had, it is true, given signsof rare intellect, but as yet they were signs only. Though his friendslooked forward confidently to the time, when they should see him the firstcitizen of the republic; and it is more than possible, that in his ownheart he contemplated even now the attainment of a more glorious, if moreperilous elevation.
The locks of this noble looking personage, though not arranged in thateffeminate fashion, which has been mentioned as characteristic of Cethegusand some others, were closely curled about his brow--for he, as yet,exhibited no tendency to that baldness, for which in after years he wasremarkable--and reeked with the choicest perfumes. He wore thecrimson-bordered toga of his senatorial rank, but under it, as it wavedloosely to and fro, might be observed the gaudy hues of a violet coloredbanqueting dress, sprinkled with flowers of gold, as if he had beendisturbed from some festive board by the summons to council.
As he passed through the crowd, from which loud rose the shout, followinghim as he moved along--"Hail, Caius Caesar! long live the noble Caesar!"--hisslaves scattered gold profusely among the multitude, who fought andscrambled for the glittering coin, still keeping up their clamorousgreeting; while the dispenser of the wasteful largesse appearing to knowevery one, and to forget no face or name, even of the humblest, had afamiliar smile and a cheery word for each citizen.
"Ha! Bassus, my old hero!" he exclaimed, "it is long since thou hast beento visit me. That proves, I hope, that things go better now-a-days athome. But come and see me, Bassus; I have something for thee to keep thecold from thy hearth, this freezing weather."
And he paused not to receive an answer, but moved forward a step or two,till his eye fel
l upon the swordsmith.
"What, Caius," he said, "sturdy Caius, absent from his forge so early--butI forgot, I forgot! you are a politician, perhaps you can tell me why theyhave roused me from the best cup of Massic I have tasted this ten years.What is the coil, Caius Crispus?"
"Nay! I know not," replied the mechanic, "I was about to ask the same ofyou, noble Caesar!"
"I am the worst man living of whom to inquire," replied the patrician,with a careless smile. "I cannot even guess, unless perchance"--but as hespoke, he discovered, standing beside the smith, the man who had calledhimself Fulvius Flaccus, and interrupting himself instantly, he fixed along and piercing gaze upon him, and then exclaimed "Ha! is it thou?" withan expression of astonishment, not all unmixed with vexation.
The next moment he stepped close up to him, whispered a word into his ear,and hurried with an altered air up the steep street which scaled thePalatine.
A minute or two afterward, Crispus turned to address this man, but he toowas gone.
In quick succession senator after senator now came up the gentle slope ofthe Sacred Way, until almost all the distinguished men in Rome, whetherfor good or for evil, had undergone the scrutiny of the group collectedaround Caius Crispus.
But it was not till among the last that Catiline strode by, gnawing hisnether lip uneasily, with his wild sunken eyes glaring suspiciously abouthim. He spoke to no one, until he came opposite the smith, on whom hefrowned darkly, exclaiming, "What do you here? Go home, sirrah, go home!"and as Caius dropped his bold eyes, crest-fallen and abashed, he added ina lower tone, so that, save Bassus only, none of the crowd could hear him,"Wait for me at my house. Evil is brewing!"
Not a word more was spoken. Crispus and the old man soon extricatedthemselves from the throng and went their way; and in a little timeafterward the multitude was dispersed, rather summarily, by a band ofarmed men under the Praetor Pomptinus, who cleared with very littledelicacy the confines of the Palatine, whereon it was announced that thesenate were now in secret session.