The Rise of Rome (Penguin Classics)

by Plutarch

  Questions of cultural identity were to the fore in the elite Graeco-Roman society of the Roman empire,19 and it is obvious how this pairing interrogates the essential conditions for Roman and Greek culture. The conflict over removing the Romans to Veii is a struggle over Roman identity. Although the Romans began as a nation of immigrants, their religion – the favour of the gods that makes Rome the centre of a great empire (ch. 31) – is shown to be wedded to the physical situation of their city (again, the Capitol is a significant marker of Roman power). In the end, it is by way of divine communication that the senate and people are persuaded to rebuild and not to abandon Rome (ch. 32). By contrast, the autochthonous Athenians, under Themistocles’ leadership, constitute a city of their own wherever they travel (Themistocles 11). Even the gods, prodded a bit by Themistocles, grant the Athenians permission to withdraw from the site of Athens (Themistocles 10), and the Athenians will remain Athenians even if they resettle in the west, in Italy (Themistocles 11). In the end, of course, the Athenians, like the Romans, rebuild their city on its original site. Nevertheless, it is obvious how the Athenians’ identity, in its versatility, is unlike the Romans’.

  Nor is Themistocles’ cultural identity fastened to a particular place: for all the travels and adaptations entailed by his exile, he remains ever the true Athenian. He leaves his native city, and shows himself adept, by virtue of his synēsis, at mastering local customs and languages in Persia (Themistocles 27–31). But neither different dress nor different speech can suffice to obliterate his essential Hellenic qualities. When the Persian king calls on Themistocles to fight against the Greeks, he takes his own life ‘in a manner that was worthy of it’, an action that earns admiration from Greeks and Persians alike (Themistocles 31). His legacy in Greece abides, and Plutarch closes his Life with a compliment to the great man’s descendant, ‘Themistocles the Athenian, who was a friend and fellow-student of mine’ (Themistocles 32). It does not seem a hard thing to recognize which culture, in this pairing, is deemed the more robust and vital, for all the greater majesty and success of its Roman hero.

  Life of Camillus

  [d. 365 BC]

  1. Let us turn now to Furius Camillus. Many extraordinary things are reported about him, the most singular and astonishing of which is that, although he achieved great successes when holding high military command – he held the office of dictator five times, he celebrated four triumphs and he is commemorated as a second founder of Rome – he never once held the office of consul. This was owing to the political conditions of the time, for the people were in conflict with the senate and as a result refused to elect consuls, preferring instead to elect military tribunes with consular powers.1 The men who held this office acted with the same authority and power as consuls, but inasmuch as their regime was divided among several, it was deemed less oppressive, and the fact that six men instead of two2 were entrusted with managing public affairs went some way towards appeasing those who were hostile to oligarchy. It was during this time that Camillus reached the height of his achievements and glory, and, since the temper of the people was against it, he refused to become consul – although the government did in fact revert to consular elections many times during the course of his career. Still, he held many different offices,3 and when in office he so conducted himself that, even when he was the one in sole command, he exercised his authority in cooperation with others, and when in reality the authority was not exclusively his but was shared with others, the resulting glory was always his and his alone. His readiness to cooperate with others stemmed from his moderation, which let him exercise command without reproach, and it was his intelligence that gave him the undisputed first place.

  2. At a time when the house of the Furii was not very distinguished, Camillus, through his own actions, was the first of his line to win fame,4 which he did by serving under the dictator Postumius Tubertus5 in a great battle against the Aequians and the Volscians. Riding out ahead of the army, he continued his charge even after he was wounded in the thigh; with the missile still hanging from his wound, he went on to attack the bravest of the enemy and put them to flight. For this deed he received many honours, the most notable of which was his appointment as censor,6 in those days a highly prestigious office. It is still remembered, as one of the finest accomplishments of his censorship, that he constrained unmarried men, in some instances by way of persuasion, in others through the threat of fines, to marry the many women whom the wars had left widows. Another act of his, an unavoidable one under the circumstances, obliged orphans, who previously had been exempted, to pay taxes. This step was made necessary by Rome’s continuous wars, which entailed great expense.

  The most exacting campaign at that time was the siege of Veii, whose population, according to some, are called Veientani. This was by far the most splendid city in Etruria, in no way inferior to Rome either in the quantity of her arms or in the multitude of her soldiers. Proud of her wealth and also of the luxury, refinement and sumptuousness of her citizens’ way of life, she had waged many noble contests with the Romans for glory and power. By this time, however, worn down by severe reversals, the people of Veii had abandoned their past ambitions. Fortified behind high and strong walls, they had filled their city with arms, missiles, grain and all manner of provisions, which made them confident they could endure a siege that, though protracted, would be no less strenuous and wearisome for their besiegers. This was because the Romans had become accustomed to making short campaigns at the start of the summer, while spending their winters at home. Now, however, for the first time, the consular tribunes had ordered them to build forts and fortify their camp, spending winter and summer alike in enemy country – and this had gone on for nearly seven years. For this reason, the Roman people began to criticize their commanders for conducting this siege too timidly, and so they removed them and chose fresh generals. Camillus, who was elected consular tribune for the second time,7 was one of these, but he did not yet play a part at the siege of Veii. Instead, he was put in charge of the war against the Falerians8 and Capenates,9 who had taken advantage of the Romans’ complete preoccupation with their war against the Etruscans to make raids into Roman territory, thereby causing severe disturbances. These enemies were now overwhelmed by Camillus and, after they had suffered severe losses, shut up within their own walls.

  3. As the siege persisted, a calamity occurred at the Alban lake10 that, because it exhibited no obvious cause, nor could it be explained by any natural phenomenon, seemed a marvellous prodigy and occasioned great alarm. The season was autumn,11 and during the previous summer nothing in the way of excessive rainfall had been observed, nor any remarkable weather caused by southerly winds. Of the lakes, rivers and various streams that abound in Italy, some were entirely dry, others reduced to a trickle and even the biggest rivers ran low between high banks – which was usual during the summer. The Alban lake, by contrast, which is fed only by its own waters and is surrounded by fertile mountains, began to rise – visibly but inexplicably, unless some divinity caused it – and it continued to swell, gently, without any surge or waves, until it first reached the base of the mountains and then, little by little, rose to reach their peaks. At first this was an object of wonder only for shepherds and herdsmen. But when the volume and sheer weight of the water broke down the barrier which, like an isthmus, separated the lake from the region lying below it, resulting in an enormous flood that poured down through the fields and vineyards and discharged into the sea, then not only were the Romans shocked by this but all the inhabitants of Italy came to the conclusion that what had happened was deeply ominous. Nowhere was this event talked about more than in the army besieging Veii, as a result of which even the besieged came to hear of the calamity at the lake.

  4. Now, it is routinely the case that a long siege entails frequent meetings and conferences between the opposing parties, and thus it happened that a certain Roman became so familiar with a citizen of Veii that they were soon speaking freely with one another. This man fro
m Veii was deeply versed in ancient oracles and was reputed to be highly skilled in divination. When the Roman observed how, after hearing the story of the lake, the men became overjoyed and took to ridiculing the siege, he went on to tell him that this was not the only marvel that had lately occurred and that other signs, stranger even than this one, had befallen the Romans. He added that he was willing to tell him all about these portents, just in case this might help him, even in the midst of these public misfortunes, to improve his personal circumstances. For his part, the man from Veii gave this proposal an eager hearing and consented to a meeting in which he hoped to learn some forbidden secrets. So the Roman led him along, conversing with him as they walked, until little by little they had gone a good way beyond the city gate. At that moment, the Roman, who was the stronger man, seized him, and, with the assistance of others who came running from the camp, delivered him to the generals. The man from Veii, utterly helpless and all too aware that his own destiny was now inescapable, revealed the forbidden secrets of his native city: that it was not possible for Veii to be captured until the Alban lake had first burst forth and made fresh channels to the sea, and thereafter the enemy had driven back the waters, diverted their course and prevented them from mingling with the sea any longer.

  When the senate learned of these things, it was at a complete loss as to what to do. So it decreed that an embassy be sent to Delphi to consult the god. The envoys,12 Cossius Licinius, Valerius Potitus and Fabius Ambustus, were very distinguished men who made their voyage, consulted with the god, and returned with more than one response, several of which informed the Romans that some of their ancestral rites in the Latin festivals13 had been neglected. As for the Alban water, the oracle commanded them to keep it away from the sea and, if it were possible, to force it back into its ancient pool, or, failing that, by digging ditches and trenches, to divert it into the plain, thereby exhausting it. When these responses were reported, the priests performed the necessary sacrifices14 while the people went to work diverting the course of the water.

  5. In the tenth year of the war, the senate abolished all other magistracies and appointed Camillus dictator.15 He in turn chose Cornelius Scipio16 as his master of the horse. His first act was to make solemn vows to the gods that, if they should grant a glorious conclusion to the war, he would celebrate splendid games and dedicate a temple to the goddess whom the Romans call Mater Matuta.17 This goddess, on the basis of the sacred rites employed in worshipping her, could reasonably be identified with Leucothea. Women bring a slave girl into the sanctuary, where they beat her with rods; they then drive her out; after this, they embrace the children of their brothers instead of their own; and as they perform the goddess’s sacrifices, their actions resemble what is involved in performing ‘the nursing of Dionysus’ and ‘the sufferings experienced by Ino at the hands of her husband’s concubine’.18 Be that as it may, after making vows, Camillus invaded the land of the Faliscans and defeated them in a great battle along with the Capenates who had come to their aid. He then turned to the siege of Veii.

  He recognized that any attempt to take the city by a direct assault would be difficult and dangerous, and so he proceeded to dig tunnels under the earth, since the earth around the city was suitable for excavation and allowed shafts to be dug at such depths that they went undetected by the enemy. Soon his hopes were well on their way to being realized, at which time he launched a frontal assault on the city that forced the enemy to man their walls. Meanwhile, others, tunnelling unnoticed beneath the earth, reached the interior of the citadel, below the temple of Juno, which was the largest and most honoured temple in the city. It is recorded in our sources that the commander of the Etruscans happened to be sacrificing in that very temple at that very moment. When his seer looked into the entrails of the sacrificial victim, he cried out in a loud voice, announcing that the god would grant victory to whoever completed these rituals. The Romans who were in the tunnels underneath, as soon as they heard this pronouncement, immediately tore through the pavement and rushed up from the shaft below, uttering their battle cry and clashing their weapons, at which the enemy were terrified and ran away. The Roman soldiers then seized the entrails and carried them back to Camillus. To some readers, perhaps, this will seem too much like a fable.19

  In any event, the city was taken by storm, and while the soldiers were pillaging and heaping up a boundless supply of plunder, Camillus gazed down on them from the citadel. As he stood there, he first burst into tears,20 and then, after he had been congratulated by those who were with him, he lifted his hands to the gods and said this in prayer: ‘O greatest Jupiter, and gods who judge righteous and wicked actions, you know well that we Romans have not acted unjustly but instead have been compelled to defend ourselves and to exact vengeance from this city of hostile and lawless men. But’, he continued, ‘if the price for our success is some kind of reversal, then I pray that, for the sake of the city and the army of the Romans, it may fall upon me, though with as little harm as possible.’ With these words, he turned himself to the right, which is the Romans’ custom after offering the gods prayer or adoration,21 but in doing so he stumbled and fell. Those with him were astonished, but after he had picked himself up from his fall he said that this little disaster,22 in retribution for so great a good fortune, was in answer to his prayer.

  6. After sacking the city, he decided to remove the image of Juno to Rome, just as he had vowed,23 and he assembled workmen for this very purpose. But first he offered the goddess sacrifice and prayed that she would accept this devotion and kindly consent to dwell in Rome with the other gods of the city.24 And the statue, they say, answered in a low voice, saying that she was willing and agreed. Livy, however, says that, although Camillus did indeed offer up this prayer, touching the goddess and inviting her to come to Rome, it was actually the bystanders who gave the answer that she was willing and that she eagerly agreed to come along with him.25

  Those who believe in this miracle and try to defend it have, as the strongest advocate for their position, the good fortune of Rome, which from its insignificant and contemptible origins could never have attained invincible glory and an empire without from time to time experiencing many notable manifestations of the god who was its present help. Furthermore, they call attention to similar phenomena, such as statues dripping with sweat or uttering audible groans or turning themselves to the side or closing their eyes, occurrences which many historians of the past have recorded.26 And I could mention many marvellous things reported by men of my own day that should not be dismissed lightly. In matters of this nature, however, excessive credulity and excessive cynicism are equally dangerous. This is because human nature, owing to its weakness, cannot restrain itself and lacks all self-control, and as a consequence it inclines one moment towards vain superstition, another towards a disdainful neglect of the gods. Discreet piety is best, as is the avoidance of all extremes.27

  7. Whether it was on account of the brilliance of his achievement, for he had captured a city that had rivalled Rome in a siege lasting ten years, or it was owing to the adoration of others, Camillus now became conceited and embraced a degree of presumption that was importunate in a lawful civil magistrate. This showed itself in the display of pride with which he celebrated his triumph, when he mounted a chariot drawn by four white horses28 and drove it through Rome, a thing which no general had ever done before or has ever done since, for the Romans believe that such a vehicle is sacred and is devoted to the king and father of the gods. In doing this he became hateful to his fellow-citizens, who were not accustomed to such extravagant exhibitions.

  He incurred their resentment for a second reason as well, by opposing a law that would divide the city, for the tribunes of the people had proposed a measure separating the people and the senate into two equal parts, one of which would remain in Rome, while the other one, to be selected by lot, would move to the city they had just conquered. The grounds for making this proposal were that, if it were carried out, they would all o
f them enjoy far greater resources, and, with two large and attractive cities in their possession, could better preserve their territory and their overall prosperity. Which is why the people, who were numerous and poor, joyously welcomed this measure and constantly crowded around the rostra demanding that it be put to a vote. But the senate and the most powerful of the citizens outside the senate saw in the tribunes’ proposal not simply the division of Rome, but instead her destruction, and, being averse to its passage, they turned to Camillus for assistance. Because he was wary of an open political contest, Camillus introduced, again and again, various pretexts that kept the people busy with other matters, and in this way he staved off the bill’s ratification. And this added to his unpopularity.

  Still, the chief and most conspicuous reason for animosity against him stemmed from the controversy over tithing the spoils from Veii, and on this point the people had a reasonable, if not an entirely just, basis for their hostility. For it appears that, when Camillus set out on the campaign against Veii, he made a vow that should he take the city he would dedicate a tenth of the spoil to the god at Delphi. But when the city had been taken and as it was being sacked, either because he was averse to giving offence to his soldiers or because, in the midst of so many responsibilities, he simply forgot his vow, let his troops take possession of all their plunder without imposing any restriction for the tithe. At a later time, however, after he had relinquished his command, he referred this matter to the senate, and the priests announced that their sacrifices yielded revelations of a divine anger that demanded Camillus’ thank-offerings as propitiation.